fucking oreos. so this morning I woke up and groggily worked my way from my bed to the kitchen. In a daze, I got out the box of Oreos, crumbled them into a bowl, poured milk over the top (well I almost poured orange juice by accident, but caught it just in time), and dug in with my spoon. Best part is: I got a text from a friend inquiring about what I was doing at that moment. So I replied, "I may or may not being eating oreos for breakfast. please don't judge me." My friend answered back, "the breakfast of champions!" His reply cracked me up. Really though, if I keep eating oreos for breakfast I'm not going to fit into my pants anymore. I mean it. Lately, it seems like the more sugar and junk I eat the more my heartache/worry/stress diminishes...however, the more weight I gain. I don't gain weight normally though. When I gain weight, I gain it in only two places. My but and my boobs. No joke. So these days none of my bras fit and I get hit on a lot. Makes sense. Man, I kind of want an oreo right about now.