Oh brother, women getting slammed again. This time, for stopping at the drive-thru.

Well yeah, tommy's karate is at 7:30, and it's going on 5:45; the school, of course is the best end of ten miles, in the other direction.  So yeah, mom might have time to throw a load in the washer; the other two will have to wait, till she can clock out from her chauffeur shift.  Maybe, since the weather is nice, she may have a few minutes to run the weed-whacker.  Why isn't you-know-who keeping up with that?  Dear Reader, she's long quit requesting :/   Funny though, a bit of hedge trimming, and whatever else a riding mower isn't designed to get done, would supplement you-know-who's supposed exercise program.  Ha!  The only programs happening, are on the tv; aided by the remote and a bowl of chips or ice-cream.

And she's told, she's the one with a pyramid problem.  Yeah, the lady could stand to offload 40 pounds, but "pyramid?"  Not only an exaggeration, but evidence of you-know-who's willfully wicked (and LAZY) mindset.  If you-know-who, was for real, he'd do some of the chauffeuring and such - thus freeing some time for her to go hit the gym or participate in an aerobics class (something she had enjoyed, that is before ending up as, really, not much more than a pack-mule).  

Red-pills are quick to go on about women not cooking.  Well, besides the time involved in preparation, and clean up, she's about checked out from the criticism; there's plenty of healthy casseroles, which are also time-friendly, but you-know-who makes rabbit-food remarks.  Meat and taters several nights per week, are his preference - well atleast without too much carping.  Yeah, like she has nothing better to do, than serve up, then clean up, a flipping restaurant.

Traffic isn't too heavy, but people, and their stupid arse left turns, are a time-drain.  Why not just go a block down the street, turn into the bank parking lot, and go from there - would save everybody's time...perish the thought ;/   ChickenPlanet atleast had salads that you could, atleast partially, taste the veggies.  She was, maybe, a quarter mile from the take-out, when ... snap. 

She forgot to stop at little-big-box and pick up ink cartridges.  Instead of swearing they get smaller with each printer - with a slightly larger "pyramid" price - she almost began cursing herself...ya know, repeating what she's been told, all along.   And yeah, there'd be drama - uh-huh, like yellowstone will blow tonight, because magenta is out, and blue is headed that way.

But she didn't.  Instead, a bit of simple logic entered her "pea brain" - logic, that even someone who was actually borderline retarded, could grasp.  She used that printer - in feburary, for taxes, that was about it.  And the colored ink lasted, maybe two or three weeks.  So, why the last minute; and why were the cartridges - among, too many other things - her problem?