So I spent some time on the weekend feeling like a total loser.  Don’t even ask how my kid’s haircut went.  Let’s just say that add some leather and throw him on a chopper and my three year old would look like one of the scarier characters from Mad Max.  Hmmm, maybe there’s cheap gas in this bad haircut for us.

Anyways today all I wanted to do was eat.  I schlep to work in the rain and my breakfast is a pious little bowl of oatmeal.  I put it in the microwave and doesn’t it explode.  By the time I clean up the puddles of warm oatmeal-goo there’s barely anything left to eat. 

And that’s when I notice a chocolate cupcake covered in billows of white icing and colorful sprinkles.  It’s leftover from Friday.  So I bargain with myself.  Let’s see, the icing would protect the cake from getting too stale right?  And does the icing ever go bad? It’s just sugar right?  And wouldn’t a less- than-fresh cupcake be a far sight better than what’s left of my oatmeal breakfast?

And then I heard them, voices in my head.  They sounded just like Lori and Betty from Bronx Beat on Saturday Night Live.  Check the clip where they say, “Don’t ever eat meatballs in a restaurant…. Just gahbage.  Balls of gahbage”.   I love those gals.

Except they were talking to me.  They said, “what are we eatin’ gahbage now?  Gahbage Cupcakes?  Why doncha just reach in the gahbage can for breakfast??”  I sneered at the cupcake.  I took my two bites of oatmeal back to my desk chuckling.

So yes, it’s true. I hear voices in my head.  But hey, as long as they do their job and save me from eating stale cupcakes for breakfast, they’re welcome to stay.