I wish old women wearing too much, too-dark lipstick, chatting with child-molester mustachioed, jeans-and-Cowboys-hat-wearing dudes at the gym would stop talking and get to lifting so I can use that machine.
I wish yoga would start back up again, already.
I wish I knew what the fuck this meant:
(Sorry for the quality. I was in my car, after all.)
Dudes. I wish you could try this salad I just made. It is phenomenal. Using bacon from the farm, CSA tomatoes, homemade bread and mint from my mom's garden probably didn't hurt. I halved the recipe and you'd better believe I'm going to eat the whole damn thing, or die trying.
I wish it was Friday.
I wish Emily a ridiculous amount of success with her new job.
I wish I was absolutely certain that today is actually Wednesday.