This is obvious, probably. Because I believe that most people have a lot of internal dialogue with themselves. But, I have a lot of thoughts.

So many I wish I would write down. 50% of the time I feel like I should have a notebook with me at all times because it seems like I have ONE BILLION GOOD IDEAS. Especially in the morning while I'm showering. Tragically, that's not a good setting for a notebook.

Anyway, I have had a lot of ideas about writing lately. I would like to write a memoir of sorts, eventually. Not that I feel like my life has been so amazing and wonderful that I need to document it. But rather, that I want to remember it all. The good and the bad. If it's interesting and relatable, great. If not. Whatever, it's not for you anyway.

I also want to continue documenting all of the random ass shit that goes on in my every day life.

I started listening to the podcast "Serial" (I am fucking slow to that train....I know) and Sarah Keonig tells the story of her struggle in asking people to remember past events. By nature, there are approximately 344,564,345 million things going on at a particular time, and it's impossible to recall them all. Unless there is a BIG event. Something that strikes an emotional cord in your psyche.

Anyway. I just want to remember the shit. Hence, a memoir-thing. That's all.




So. Today. (I actually wrote this yesterday right before I went to bed, and thought better of just clicking "post".)

I've been shopping at Costco for years. I fucking love that bulk-purchase warehouse-style shit-fest (so many hyphens). I love it. THERE IS SO MUCH STUFF! AND IN BULK.

Anyway, we eat a lot of eggs at our house because I am obsessed with breakfast foods. I live and breath breakfast. It's my life blood. I frequently eat egg whites and sweet potatoes as a snack at night. Ask Mr. Steele how much he loves the smell of eggs in the microwave wave at night.

I am the Ron Swanson of breakfast. That's how much I fucking love it.

So.

The Costco that I shop at has recently began this quiet movement to save the fucking chickens or some shit. I don't know what it is. But, when I went to purchase my mega-pack of eggs, I realized they only sell cage-free eggs. In proper bullshit style, my ~$6 mega pack of eggs no longer exists and the CAGE FREE version is three bucks more.

I mean, that's the best part of Costco, right? You can get A LOT of shit for a very reasonable and economical price. But, COME ONE. They're eggs! EGGS! Maybe I am pro-cage because I like cheap shit! Give me my moral ambiguity at least. Jesus.

And let's face it. Just because the chickens get to roam free, feel the sunshine on their reptile-like chicken legs, and lay eggs wherever the fuck they want does not necessarily mean that the cost of grabbing their fucking eggs increases exponentially!

They taste the same. They cook the same. The chickens even still shit on them sometimes!

But. I'm also not going to drive somewhere else to get eggs. So, fuck you Costco.

-Stef