On Sunday I believe it was (I say ‘I believe’ because, as you will soon see, I recently lost my mind so I can’t be too sure), Z’s sister was awesome enough to pick us up a couple of chipotle burritos on her way over because she was picking up some soup that Z had made. So anyway, as usual, I ate half of mine, and wrapped up the rest to enjoy at a later time.
Tuesday rolls around… at least I THINK it was Tuesday… and I get hungry (possibly in the afternoon, possibly later… the details are fuzzy). So, craving some delicious two-day old beans and rice, I popped the rectangular blob of a burrito into the microwave for a couple of minutes.
…at this point, apparently some crazy distraction pulls me away from the microwave (possibly some other delicious food item catches my eye?)
So now our story brings us to this evening (Thursday). I get home from work, have a little snack and start doing a few things in my room. Z comes by and asks, “did you try to eat your burrito yesterday?”. I think for a second. Yesterday…yesterday… that was Wednesday; no, I was at school all day. Hmmm… then it clicks! MY BURRITO! Oh my goodness… MY BURRITO!!! Oh man, that poor little guy. I guess Z found him in there sometime yesterday afternoon all shriveled and sad.
So that’s my story. I completely forgot about my burrito. I warmed him up and forgot him. The worst part is, for the life of me, I cannot remember what I actually did end up eating that day.
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