Yesterday one of my co-workers asked me what I was doing for St. Patrick's Day. I explained that I hate St. Patrick's Day and my plan was to not leave the apartment. Imagine my amazement when I watched 30 Rock last night and heard Liz Lemon tell her boss "I don't leave my house on St. Patrick's Day."
I have long suspected that were Liz Lemon to give into her exhibishionist impulses and develop a love for rhinestones and crying, we would officially be the same person. This was confirmed a few months ago when I was hanging out with my boyfriend and pulled a Costco cookie wrapped in a napkin out of my purse that I had taken from work as a snack.
I wonder how long it will be before I start walking around in shorteralls and eating off-brand Mexican Cheetos for lunch.
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