"There's this, like, lattice o' coincidence that lays on top o' everything..."

So I've been talking about oatmeal for a few posts, ever since I've been able to taste it. Now, there's an article in the New York Times on oatmeal, out of the blue, no explanation. No point in lookin' for one, either. It's all part of a cosmic unconciousness.

Personally, I've been going for the steel-cut McCann's Irish stuff because I can taste them more than the Quaker crap. Plus, the website has a bunch of recipes. Not that I'd try them since they all seem to call for the Quick Cooking Oatmeal. The steel-cut takes 30 minutes to prepare, so I make a pot full, then divide it up for the week so all I have to do is microwave it for 1 minute.

This morning, I had a bowl with buttermilk, raisins, and toasted macadamia nuts. For dinner last night I mixed in buttermilk and dried cranberries. Yesterday morning, I mixed in vanilla yogurt, apricot jam, and almonds. Lunch was the only time I deviated: chocolate chip pancakes.

Evelyn and Agnieszka want me to bring oatmeal into the office tomorrow. They want to try it with a big jar of applesauce one of them brought in. Our Southern California Director commented on how we seem to eat all day long, yet none of us "weighs a minute." It wasn't always that way, Baby.

I hung out at Cole's for about an hour last night. Ali gave me crap because his soon-to-be-ex-wife keeps calling me. I gave him crap because his soon-to-be-ex-wife keeps calling me (this is why the "don't give out Laura's cell phone number" rule isn't just for girlfriends). But his birthday is next week, and the Hawks start playing at the bar again next Wednesday, so there's that to look forward to.