Guilty Pleasures

I love me some pie.

Most everyone knows this. Pretty much any type of pie will do: cherry, blueberry, buttermilk, chocolate, pecan, pumpkin...okay I'll stop because I'm sort of drooling now. When I was in my college days I used to keep a whole pie at my desk for a week at a time while I slowly whittled it away into nothing, to the utter horror of my crazy germophobic roommates. I may even have in my possession a T-shirt that was personally made for me that says "Pie Whore." Because I will do pretty much anything for a good piece of pie.

Currently my favorite pie (excluding ones made by my mom, because come on) is the single serving slices of Lemon Meringue Pie they sell at Chick-fil-A. It's some of the most perfect pie in the world, all sweet graham crackery crust with real lemony filling, an obscene amount of whipped meringue topping AND two fresh vanilla wafers.

I'll just go ahead and say it: Anyone who is not craving pie after that description is a Communist. Or a zombie. I'm sorry, but it's the truth.

Anyways, so that was what I had for lunch, a slice of pie from Chick-fil-A, because I am very, very, very poor right now and a slice of pie is filling and nutritious and costs less than $1.50. I ran through the drive thru, because I had some work to take care of back at the office, and brought my delicious pie to my desk to enjoy at my leisure. And it was delicious in a very literal sense.

So good, in fact, that I may have gotten a little overzealous in my pie consumption. Uh...to the point that I may have licked clean the little plastic container that it came in.

What? It was really good.

And yeah, in any case I wasn't so much concentrating on the pie eating, I just remember that it was awfully good.

Unfortunately, my entire office apparently knows exactly how good it was too, since I had to run a bunch of things up and down between my office and the mail room this afternoon, and did so without the knowledge that I had a good portion of that delicious meringue hanging off the tip of my nose. Because that's how I roll: like a dog that snuck some food off the dining room table.

I learned this fact approximately 45 minutes after I finished eating, when I happened to catch my reflection in the shiny door of the elevator. People in my office are awesome. And by 'awesome' I mean 'bitches.'

So, yeah. Rock on.