I should probably have written the title in a way that the “fat” was in reference to a fat lie and not to me, precisely. Yes, I am still overweight and those cheap, but strangely addictive butter cookies from Kroger’s didn’t help. They are seasonal and, knowing this, I bought extras when they went on sale. Now I am in withdrawal.

Today has been one to inspire grumpiness – my 5:30 to 7:20 am taking someone to work commute was not snowy at first, but the radio person said it was going to get dicey and there was an accident by a corner near my destination.  Well, crap. It did start to snow and there was an accident and then on the way home it started snowing harder and the radio said there were lots of accidents. By this time I was driving out of it. But that was not really the cause of my initial grumpiness. Radio morning drive broadcasters have changed a lot since I would listen. At this time, the local station has a woman doing most of the talking in a fast, high-pitched voice and she has no partner with whom to banter back and forth width. The weather and road announcements are about 10 seconds long and ALL THE REST OF THE TIME, she does rapid fire commercials and repeated updates on the latest political results.  The My Pillow commercial made me want to suffocate the radio, but I was concerned there might just be a sentence that indicated I was heading right to an accident back-up.

That’s petty stuff, I know. I got back and then nodded off for a nap with dreams that were unsettling. I guess I should not have lipped off about the  “My Pillow”.

Then we had a computer-induced problem . . . and, of course, I had no butter cookies to ease my frustration. My 12 Step program is that  number of steps to get to the kitchen; it is not effective. Do not try it at home.

While I’m griping about my actually not a problem day, a relative was having a hip replacement and then facing rehab. Why did I not think, “Oh, I am so lucky to only have a computer prob instead of having my hip cut into and discomfort following.”

Actually, now that I have been writing about those cheap butter cookies, I have a faint memory of sticking a box in a hiding place two weeks before Christmas. Maybe it’s still there.