Tired Laurel and Pizza

*****I tried to post this yesterday, but my internet would have none of it. So here it is.
When I first started this blog, I thought I might run out of things to blog about. I now know there is no way that will happen. I am so tired that yesterday I actually cried when I went into the breakroom and there was no cheese pizza. Now this may seem strange without the back story. I mean- who expects pizza? Here's the deal:

Since yesterday was Memorial Day, my nice bosses at Hobby Lobby decided to treat us to pizza for lunch. There are a few factors that made this such a big deal:

1. I LOVE pizza.
2. I didn't eat breakfast and was working a nine hour shift.
3. I had been working on my thesis all weekend and was really sleep deprived.

When it was my turn to go to lunch, after having a bit of a tricky morning, I was really looking forward to some yummy cheese pizza. I went into the breakroom (which has mysteriously smelled strongly of men's cologne for the past few days?!?) and asked if there was any cheese left. I was informed that they hadn't ordered any cheese. I then replied that that sucked because I'm a vegetarian. My co-workers then recommended I just take the meat off. They quickly realized that defeated the whole "not eating meat plan." I think on any other day I would have been fine. After being a vegetarian for 6 years, you kind of get used to being left out of the food count. But on this day Everyday Laurel was no where to be found. She had been relplaced by Tired Laurel, and this was more than Tired Laurel could take.

First I should introduce you to Tired Laurel. Tired Laurel is a lot like 4-year-old Laurel. She drags her feet and has a sad and confused look on her face. She often draws out phrases like "I'm so tired." and "Is it time to go home yet?" She really just wants to be taken home and fed a steady diet of cheetos and grape koolaid. Tired Laurel is really no fun to be around. Ah, but I digress. On any other day, I would have just plopped down and eaten some Dorritos from the vending machine, but today I even surprised myself. I did something I rarely do and DEFINITELY never let other people see: I cried. That's right. I cried. Luckily I made it to the car before I cried. But there were definitely tears running down my face. Everyday Laurel doesn't cry over pizza. Just Tired Laurel.

So the lesson of the story: If you see signs of Tired Laurel, RUN. Don't try to reason with her, don't try to make her feel better, and whatever you do, don't forget to order her some cheese pizza.