Everyone Hears Dead People, But I Hear Groceries

Tonight, for ten minutes, my head played this recording over and over, "If I make 3 cups of brown rice do I put 5 or 6 cups of water in the pot?"

Yep, the fretting in my mind was incessant. And for NOTHING. Because when I finally decided, "it has to be six cups of water for three cups of rice!" I discovered I only had one cup of brown rice left to cook.

One. Cup.

Hello? Forget, are you breathing? I was all, are you kidding?!

To make matters worse, when I was at the grocery store, only 2 hours ago, the brown rice was screaming, "buy me, buy me, for the love of Peet's coffee, buy me!"

"Holy psychic rice, how does it know I love Peet's coffee?!" I ask myself.

But, then, I realize the rice isn't psychic, it saw the Peet's coffee in my cart.

Anyways, I'm not going to let smooth talking long, hard, grain rice seduce me, even if it is brown. So I turn up my nose and say, "I prefer Trader Joe's rice, hmmphf!"

Obviously I didn't say this out loud to the rice. Because people would think I'm crazy, talking to rice. Being the psychic ninja/surfer that I am, I sent the condescending message through my third eye, to the rice. Pow!

And where did playing hard to get with the SavMart rice get me, anyways? Nearly, dancing in the lap of that lusty, muscley, devil, GLUTEN.

"Don't do Gluten!" sings the Anti-Gluten Chorus.

Now I'm pretty much back where I started, "if I make 1 cup of rice, do I put 2 or 3 cups of water in the pot?"