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There are days when you wake up and have a ton of shit to do and you’ve already missed more daylight hours than you care to admit but you work as hard as you can and still feel like you’re not getting anywhere.

Pepperidge Farm Remembers…*

The water in New York is nasty, or at least from my New York sink it is, and when you’re doing a ton of stupid work where you find more problems than you solve, leaving the house to buy water is a good deviation from the frustration that lies ahead.

Pepperidge Farm Remembers…

Friends’ birthdays are important, but unlike Pepperidge Farm, you forgot your friend’s birthday and need to buy a gift at the 11th hour. After walking around town for awhile with every intention of buying a nice gift, you get frustrated and decide to just get the damn water. And maybe stock up on soup because the Emporium o’ Foods is having a sale.

Pepperidge Farm Remembers…

You can walk through aisles and aisles of random foods, organized loosely by type and brand, and no matter what’s there, you want something else. Like a cookie. A big, soft, sweet, chewy cookie. But this store doesn’t have those cookies. It has Chips Ahoy… and Chips Ahoy. Those cookies are acceptable, for instance, when you have to bring a snack to a party. But I was going for quality, not quantity. How could a store that calls itself an Emporium have such a limited selection of cookies??

Pepperidge Farm Remembers…

You’ll still cruise the store 10 times over so you don’t have to make a trip to another store, like Grizzly’s, which is right across the friggin’ street. You know the effort is fruitless from the beginning, but that’s the amount of walking you’d do back at the HEB or Walmart in Texas, and you’re going to be glad you had a little exercise before you finally find the cookies you seek.

Pepperidge Farm Remembers…

To say, “Fuck it” and go to Grizzly’s, where P-Farm’s Soft Baked Chocolate Chunk cookies are a whopping 20 cents off the regular price. In your face, corporate marketing whores! I was going to buy these cookies anyway!

Pepperidge Farm Remembers…

Back in the old days, no one cared about nutritional value or calorie-counting because everyone was working on the farm instead of sitting back at their desks trying to find new ways to procrastinate and amuse one’s self before a nice dinner with friends that makes your mundane days spent rotting in a chair seem worth living.

Pepperidge Farm Remembers…

What a fucking pig you have to be to eat a whole (okay, half, but only because of sheer willpower) bag of cookies. Actually, a bag only contains eight cookies. That’s okay, right? Half of that chocolately goodness got stuck in your braces so you brushed it all out of your mouth right away and it’s like you never ate anything, and now that you’re not dying for cookies anymore, you can finally try to get some work done. Oh forget it, I’m heading to the pub.

Pepperidge Farm Remembers.

*For those in the dark, this was part of some comedian’s stand-up routine. I not only stole his joke, I kicked it in the face, slammed it against a wall, declared it dead, and chopped it into bite-sized pieces to store in my fridge. My apologies. But only for this post, not eating half a bag of cookies. Those were delicious.