Little Debbie Swiss Cake Rolls have been on sale at the BiLo next to our apartment.
2 boxes for $3.
We must have gone through 4 this week.
On Monday night I did something insane. I took a Swiss Cake Roll and crumbled it over a bowl of vanilla ice cream, and told my resolutions to go fuck themselves.
Last night, Jaimie was shady.
Almost every afternoon, I take a nap. I’ve been doing this for the past 18 years. It started when I was doing stand up in New York. I would wait tables from 10:45-4pm, get home about 4:30, nap until 6, and then go do comedy into the wee hours of the night.
When I started teaching, the habit continued. Except instead of going to do stand up into the wee hours of the night, I would make a pot of tea, grab a piece of chocolate, and sit at my computer and write.
Over the years, these early evening writing sessions have produced some of my best work. It’s when I’ve written most of my plays, edited almost all of my solo shows. If I’m performing, the nap is even more essential. Adam Knight even builds it into our rehearsal schedule. He knows from 4-6 I have nothing to offer, but for whatever reason, after the combination of the nap and the chocolate and the tea, my brain fires on all cylinders.
So last night I was in my office, doing my post nap/early evening writing. About thirty minutes in, I hear Jaimie calling from the couch. “Your phone is ringing,” my sweet little fiancé says. “Thank you baby,” I reply, and walk into the kitchen to see who who I missed.
The name on my phone said Jaimie. I looked at the couch and there she was, making that face that from the emoji- you know the one- that you send with all the teeth showing, indicating you did something wrong.
“Was it you who called,” I innocently asked.
“Yes. It was me who called, she replied. I was wondering if you could you go to the kitchen and bring me a Swiss Cake Roll…”
She made that emoji face again.
I walked to the cabinet, and got a Swiss Cake Roll. It was the last one in the box I had bought less than 24 hours before. I walked it to the couch.
“I want you to eat this and think about what you did.”
I then walked dramatically back to my office. Jaimie had pulled a power move. I sat down and started typing, secure in the knowledge that Jaimie was a criminal mastermind. Secure in knowing the topic for the next day’s blog.