10 Things I Should Have Done Today And Why I Didn’t

1. Eat a healthy breakfast.

I struggled long and hard with this one, avoiding the kitchen so that I wouldn’t suddenly shove a Ding Dong in my mouth while guzzling a 2-liter of Coke. I purposely stayed in the home office and worked on my website, ignoring the beck and call of the dancing Pop Tarts and singing Girl Scout cookies coming from the pantry. I even turned off the radio because every third commercial involved deep-fried something or other at a nearby drive-thru. I was diligent and remained true to the cause.

But after five soul-killing minutes, I had had enough.

I yelled for Terry to throw his ass in the shower, and fifteen minutes later we were barreling down the road to Luby’s with the intensity of that creepy blond-haired guy with the cigarette in “Fargo”. We squealed into the parking lot and raced inside, easily passing several senior citizens piling off a church bus and trying to figure out where they were.

Once inside, I marched past the doctor-recommended veggie egg-white omelet, and firmly planted myself in front of the meat-lover’s omelet station, peeing on the floor to mark my territory and barking at the startled server that she better pile that plate HIGH. We then raced to a table, throwing some cash in the general direction of the cashier and already yelling at the waitress what we wanted for the second round. My plate had a layer of grease so thick that the omelet was skittering around like a hovercraft and trying to get the fork into it was like spear-fishing. Pure bliss.

2. Mow the lawn.

I haven’t done this so far this year, so why screw with tradition? Besides, there’s still a two-foot layer of dead leaves on the ground from last fall that I haven’t raked up. Ain’t no grass growin’ THERE.

3. Wash my car.

Pointless. It’s just going to rain again eventually. And we all know that dirt and rust is all that’s keeping that car together anyway.

4. Work on my taxes.

After searching the entire house for at least three seconds, I was unable to find a working black or blue ink pen. I took this as a sign from Jesus that he did not want me to do anything financially responsible today. I shoved the W-2’s into a desk drawer, where they will probably remain until 11:59p on April 14th. I chose not to acknowledge the two pens that were rolling about in that same drawer, because one should stick to a plan once they have it.

5. Clean out the guest bedroom closet.

This one has caused me considerable mental agitation. I hate that closet. I have tried to tidy it up on many occasions, even going so far as to buy some cute mini-shelving for better organization. But every attempt goes the same way. I drag everything out until the guest bed is loaded down with what looks like the “after” photo of a tornado incident, I finally decide that I can part with one single item, the rest of the stuff remains on the bed for a week, and then I shove everything, minus the one, back into the closet. I basically accomplish nothing.

It’s just too much to deal with. Today I slid the door open, grimaced, and then slammed it shut. End of effort. I chose to ignore the gleaming package of ballpoint pens perched on top of an afghan made out of corn stalks and horse hair, a gift from a poor but creative relative that I don’t really know. If I part with THAT, there will be heated discussions at future family reunions.

6. Fix the counter-weight pulley on the attic door.

This has been broken for a while, and I really need to do something about it, because sooner or later somebody is going to be killed in the main hallway, and I really don’t have time for that. See, these pulley things balance the weight of the door and folded-up stairs so the whole thing gently descends when you grasp the trap door handle whilst wearing something cute and intending to place a box of Christmas ornaments into high-altitude storage.

When one of the pulleys is broken, the trap door becomes a death trap. It opens deceptively easily at first, lowering cooperatively while birds sing and virgins remain pure. Then we reach a tipping point, and suddenly folded wood the weight of a Buick is smashing your skull into the floor. Not good.

But have you ever tried to climb attic stairs when your belly is full of meat-lovers omelets? It just can’t be done. So instead, I just flipped off the attic door as I walked down the hallway and continued not doing my taxes.

7. NOT play any Facebook games.

This didn’t happen.

8. Finish up all those blog posts where I ended with “To Be Continued” but then never posted the next installment.

Ummm….

9. Start using the treadmill again.

I actually made minimal effort with this one. I marched into the room where we have shoved the treadmill and studied it carefully. Then I noticed a thick layer of dust on that rolling belt where you walk, and that our cat, Scotch, had apparently been using the belt to do a line dance, and that his cute little paw prints had somehow recreated the “Mona Lisa” in exquisite detail. Well, I certainly couldn’t live with myself if I denied anyone the chance to view great works of art. So I turned off the light and left the room.

10. Write a fresh blog post.

Hey, I actually got one done. I think I deserve a treat. Or maybe a nap. Or both. After all, tomorrow is another day, filled with responsibilities to avoid, and I need the carbs and rest….

10 Exciting Things About Eating Breakfast at Luby’s

1. The fact that Luby’s even serves breakfast.

  This is an amazing and monumental development in the history of dining out. Luby’s has always had good food, albeit most of the selections are considerably health-negative. (The cooks love things like salt, butter, lard, and a disregard for free-flowing arteries.) So the prospect of  the staff taking a crack at breakfast had me salivating profusely from the exact second I noticed the announcement whilst driving past the location down the street. It was 8:30 at night. I seriously considered just parking the car at the door and waiting for daylight.

2. It’s CHEAP.

  Luby’s is not known for budget-supportive prices. If you aren’t careful when going through the line, snapping up everything that looks tasty, you might have to take out a loan when you get to the register. Even if you try to do the right thing, economically speaking, selecting the LuAnn Platter, which saves you a few cents, I’m just not emotionally stable enough to avoid the other temptations. Like dessert. A wedge of carrot cake, though guaranteed to trigger multiple orgasms, will set you back 4 or 5 bucks.

  But brace yourselves, fellow Luby’s lovers. The breakfast at Luby’s is only FIVE DOLLARS. That is not a typo. (To be fair, that’s the price here in Dallas. I can’t really speak for other locales, nor do I have any desire to do so.) And before you have recovered from the shock, let me hit you with another wave: It’s all you can eat.

  All. You can eat.

  I know, right? Why are you still sitting there? Pack up Granny and hit the road.

3. On the down side, “All You Can Eat” can lead to poor planning and biological discomfort.

  As mentioned, I’m still used to careful selections when working through the serving line at Luby’s, because everything costs and I have bills to pay. So when presented with the option of taking whatever I want, I went a little crazy, asking for a bit of everything. When my plate was finally passed down to the last sever and it was time to hand it over, a representative from OSHA had to step in and weigh the thing before Missy could hoist the grease-dripping mess, and in the end they just used an overheard crane to swing the groaning porcelain platter my direction.

  As I waited in line to pay, I realized that I had four different biscuit-based items on my tray. (The most enticing of these? Honey-laced chicken strips on a butter biscuit.) I had enough carbs in my possession to power me through not only the Boston Marathon but the first six months of next year. If I dared to eat all that mess then I deserved to have internal organs rupture in defiance and self-preservation.

4. The cashier is not yet used to this “one price” thing, either.

As she was announcing my total, Melvinetta, or whatever her name was, actually said to me: “That’s the same amount that I’ve been ringing up all morning!” (Then she grinned maniacally at this perceived happenstance in the cosmos.) Um, everyone is going to have the same amount because it’s the same price. Do you not realize that you’re punching the same button on your little register every time? Poor thing. I hope she really likes working at Luby’s, because she’s apparently already clutching the highest star she can reach.

5. The table attendants have a new lease on life.

  These people no longer have the boring task of simply inquiring on the fullness level of your tea glass. They are now responsible for running to retrieve any additional food selections you may require during your consumption extravaganza. That’s right, you don’t even have to drag your ass out of your chair if you want to nosh a bit more. Just ask and you shall receive. Good deal, right?

  Sort of. You have to be very selective in choosing your table. You want to be in the serving radius of a well-balanced and professional attendant, one who will keep an eye on you without being intrusive. You don’t want one of those hyper, greedy attendants hell-bent on asking if you need anything every five seconds, thinking that the more little plates they bring you will automatically increase their tip. “Look, Benedryllia, I’m still chewing on the bite of pancakes that you watched me put in my mouth the last time you checked on my hash brown requirements.”

6. Cream gravy tastes good on everything.

  Everything.

7. It IS possible to slip into and out of a grease-induced coma several times in a row without lasting physical damage.

  I proved that this morning. You can rent the resulting documentary at Red Box.

8. Cheaper does mean a ruder customer base.

  Prepare yourself for this angle. When prices hit rock-bottom, transforming Luby’s from the realm of senior citizens with nothing else to do and folks who will eat chicken-fried anything to a free-for-all of discounts and gluttony, you are going to encounter some shadier elements of society.

  Of course, it’s not like gangs are driving motorcycles around the condiment bar while hookers strut their wares near the extra silverware, but be aware that there are certain sinister tables that you should probably avoid. Unless, of course, you find it refreshing to be part of a drug deal at 9:30 in the morning. I understand that we all have our own interests.

9. The old people are still around.

  They are always there. It’s a cult.

10. It’s difficult to remember your name once you’ve eaten enough bacon.

  Likewise, an extremely full belly can lead to other complications in public places, like confusion about where the exit might be, where you car might be, how many people were originally in your party, whether or not you still love any of them, and an inability to recall the exact functioning of all those pedals and levers and warning lights on a standard automobile. Be sure to carry proper identification, proof of insurance, a list of possible reactionary medications, and a formal letter of pardon from the last time you lost your mind in a place that has unlimited cream gravy…