Passion Pit makes me dancy and stuff

Today is a happy day? You know why? BECAUSE.

But I do know that Passion Pit makes me want to dance. So let's jiggle about and stifle the urge to dance while we read (or write if you're me) this post.

TAP DIS    

I literally started bumping around the moment it came on. This is not a joke, it is an actual condition I have. I mean, not a medically diagnosed condition, but close.

I'm taking to long to write this and have to keep hitting replay. Not a problem. AGAIN AGAIN AGAIN.

Want to hear about my weekend?
(Why do I ask question without the intent for them to be rhetorical on a blog?)

Anyways, who likes squash? ( what the heck. I did it again) But forreal. Who likes squash? ME. I desperately love squash.. Like a lot. But my love for squash comes on really quickly and sometimes at terrible times. Like this weekend when I just HAD to have roasted squash at 1:00 in the morning.

I promptly demanded my friend Caleb to go get me squash.. and he said no. WHAT!?!?!?

I, rightly, got very angry. I was like fine whatever I'll go get the squash at Cub by myself. Whatever. 

So I did. 

BUT, I had to take my sister's car because her car was parked behind mine and I couldn't get out...  I hate my sister's car. IT NEVER STARTS FOR ME THE PIECE OF POOP.

But I took it anyways because squash.

Now, as I arrived at Cub I decided I was going to be efficient and park right up next to the back door so I was closer to Cub and didn't have to walk in the cold for very long (it was real cold). So I did just that. BUT DID NIKKI KNOW THE BACK DOOR IS LOCKED AT NIGHT? No. But the stupid car wouldn't start for me to move it... So I walked around the entire store to get to the front. But the front door closest to me was LOCKED, so I had to walk to the other end of the front of the store in the cold. IT WAS COLD. 

I was literally the only person in the store except for this mildly creepy older man.  I walked all the way over to the squashes and started gazing at them. THEN I HAD TO GO TO THE BATHROOM SO BAD I THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO FALL OVER. So I, as smoothly as I could which wasn't smooth at all waddled to the bathroom. I went, I flushed, I washed and it was over. 

Back to the squash. I finally picked out my perfect squash and it was mine. I loved it for all the little squash was it. 

I went to go check out and ended up behind the mildly creepy older man in line who took 15 minutes trying to buy 10 freaking bags of buns.... WUT.

But some other guy who had been standing at his register the whole time I was suffering in line told me he was open. I was like... Oh.

I get in line and plop my squash up on the belt and asked a very simple question: 

"Do I need to weigh my squash or do you?"

He says: "wut?"

"Did  I need to weigh my squash before I brought it over here?"

"your squash?"

"... yeah."

"No."

"oh, okay. So what do I do?"

"..... weight it."

"here?"

"Yeah, it's 4.6 pounds. It's $7.25"

"okay..... thanks"

"yeah."

"Well.... Bye..."

Then, carrying my awkward squash, I decided I was going to try to escape out the back door where my car was parked. NOPE. It wasn't open. And to make matters worse, when I tried to open the door by kicking it my pants got caught and I was stuck trying to jiggle my way out of the doors trap. 

when I finally got un-stuck I had to shamefully walk to the other front door and walk ALL the way around to my car again in the cold.

My car would start for five minutes. 

when I was finally able to get it started and began to leave: My friend Joseph called me and said:

"I'm at Cub right now do you want me to pick anything up before I come over?" 

LSFOID-2349-3SUFSEODPDsep38-2FOHUADSIODOSU8HAKUSM BYR3=M 8DKWcemfks 

I'm still a little upset over it all.

Then in the morning after I had made my wonderful squash and enjoyed it thoroughly, my mom told me that we had squash at my house THE WHOLE TIME.

UGH. I'm all worked up now. Whatever. I'll listen to Passion Pit and dance it off.

PEACE N BLESSINS