one of my fondest memories with the nissan

took place late one (of many) irritatingly-sleepless spring evening. usually season 1 episode 4 of the british office or a few this american life reruns does the trick, but i guess the things that are supposed to work all the time don't work when you really need them to. so i got out of bed at 3:30, hopped into the car and drove to jack in the box. i'm not sure if i decided to eat because it would help me fall asleep or because i was bored; i don't recommend the latter.

i ordered a jumbo jack (no ketchup), onion rings, and a coke. i drove back home, parked, and decided to eat in the car rather than go inside and wake everyone up. i slid open the moonroof (it's not a sunroof at 4am) and rolled the windows all the way down. then i thought, if the world is going to end today, this could very well be my last meal. so i enjoyed that jack in the box combo #3 as if it were the last earthly delight in which i would ever partake. and believe me, this made every bite and sip of this heart attack/colorectal cancer inducing comfort food oh. so. much. better.

i didn't fall asleep as easily as planned and ended up getting only 3 hours of shut eye. i woke up to the raucous midi version of the washington post, courtesy of my cellular phone's alarm. it was time to get ready for work, which meant that the world in fact did not end and that i would be alive for at least one more day. things will only get better from here, i thought.