Do You Hear That Still, Small Voice?

No, in fact, I do not hear a still, small voice. I hear a loud, obnoxious, mean voice, thanks.

Dammit.

I hate these come to Jeebus talks like I'm forced to have with myself every once in awhile.

I suppose Jeebus keeps trying to talk to me - and by Jeebus, I mean one of my many many inside voices - because Jeebus is my voice of reason. I don't like Jeebus very much. She's kinda bossy, a total killjoy, and, frankly, a health nut.

She's the one that keeps telling me that my pants - the ones that were too big in September - have not, in fact, shrunk. Bitch. She's also the one who told me I should totally get rid of all my crisis pants by whispering in my ear, "It's OK. If you just keep listening to me, you won't need them anymore." She lied.

Well...OK. Fine. She didn't exactly "lie". I just stopped listening to her. But, in all fairness, her voice is sorta annoying and, as I said, she's not much for the fun...or the baked goods...or the gin.

I don't actually appreciate her message...much.

So yeah. I've come back to Jeebus. *sigh*

But not before indulging in this...

Whatever could be in that pie?

Why yes! That is, in fact, a chili pie

Hey! I had to do something creative with the leftovers or they were going to go in the trash. And trust me, this was WAY better tasting than it looks...or maybe than it even sounds.

*sigh*

And this is the point in the story where I wish I had 1/10 of the self-restraint the loveliest woman on the planet has...because she would have just said no to the pie and then gone to the gym...or gone to the gym and then maybe had a little pie.

Now, excuse me. I have to go eat a salad.