Thunderstorms. 6-1-2018

Boop and I thought we were going to make it to an outdoor concert tonight, but alas, the storms were pretty bad. We had to turn around. I wasn't even sure if it was really going to happen after driving all that way. So, I drowned my sorrows in Speculoos cookie butter and bread in spite of hitting my pre-Trump weight yesterday. (Ugh, Trader Joe's, you siren of plumposity!)  I'm hearing it's called the Trump 10. In my case it was the Trump 8, but who's counting?