The Delivery Man is Not Judging You

Ok, maybe he is.  But who cares!  Sometimes I have to shove shoes out of the way to get the door open. (True story: my sister Vivi came by today and the stiletto wedged under the door happened to match perfectly with the earrings she came to borrow. #bonus)

I do this depression thing where I avoid eating all day, thinking somehow it’s not even worth it. And then I panic as midnight approaches knowing from experience that no woman’s mood stays level when her blood sugar plummets.  Then, I play a game similar to six degrees of separation. How many steps are there between me and of some type of nourishment?

  1. There is no food in my apartment.  I even drank all the Diet Coke.
  2. Some grocery stores aren’t closed yet (laughs at the thought of cooking).
  3. The only restaurants open are the 24 hour McDonald’s and Sheetz. 
  4. Nothing is appealing to me anyway, except wait…
  5. pizza.
  6. Oh shit. Will the delivery man judge me?

I am proud to say I am past the point of garnering delivery man opinions of any kind.  But, hell, why not look fly, girl? Freshen your look, add a little sustainence and you could truly stand a chance at elevating your mood. And you know what a peaceful end to the night ensures? Hope for tomorrow.  And breakfast.

Here are a few items that will step up your pizza delivery man game:

4 Replies to “The Delivery Man is Not Judging You”

  1. Screw the delivery man😂 but, words of advice after I had Kaleen….ALWAYS fix your hair and put your makeup on so, when you look in the mirror and see your face, you’ll say “hey, I don’t look half bad”… I do it for me…ask the OT that came to get me out of bed the day after my TKR… told him he might as well give me my makeup, brush and hairspray so I could at least look good😂😂😂

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