Mmmm... cheesecake.

I just bought a 12 dollar cheesecake. Yikes! It's a granny apple streusel cheesecake, which is the ultimate in yumminess, but still... 12 freaking dollars?

Why spend so much, you may ask dear reader. So I say this: er...

Well, its for a school fundraiser. So good cause, no? It's not for any school I've been to, currently go to, or directly know anyone who goes to it, but its for the school's new marquee. And that's cool. Wish I had a new marquee at my school when I was a school attendee. And a coworker is helping out his daughter because he loves her and wants the best for her and how can you not want to support that and...

Okay, okay... I saw the picture and caved. How d'ya like dem apples? (Apples being, of course, my awesome will powering skills.)

I also didn't want to tell the coworker, 'sorry, no, I don't want to help you out.' Not because I thought the coworker would give me a bad time or anything. He's the guy who used to sit behind me up here in Cubicle Island World and he's too cool to inflict peer pressure. "All the other office people are doing it. Come on, you know you want to." It's just that... I am weak.

And I'm jealous.

My parents never took my school fundraiser stuff to work. My mom was between jobs, going back to school and stuff, during the years the school pimped us kids out on the candy market. Mom said my dad wouldn't, or couldn't, take my order form to work because he didn't want his employees to feel like they had to buy something from him, the boss man. I thought that was a crap excuse because who would feel obligated to buy cookies? Especially from my dad! He didn't have to become a cookie pusher or anything. No need to become King Cookie the mafia don, lording work positions over his lowly employee's heads. He would only have to say, 'hey, see this form? My daughter's selling crap for some school field trip. If you have no children of your own, and therefore have no school crap to buy yourselves, feel free to buy 800% marked up goodies. You know, only if you want to.' How hard would that be?

It wouldn't. So I guess that was just an excuse my mom cooked up to make me go out there and sell the crap myself.

Clever mom. Very clever.