Jami and the Pizza Envy

I'll admit, I'm an emotional eater. You can't tell me that there's a day so bad that a bowl of macaroni and cheese won't help a little. Warm melty love in bowl is what that is. So today, I heard a noise outside; checking out the window, I saw the pizza guy pulling into my driveway. For a brief glorious moment, I thought maybe someone had sent me pizza. You know, like flowers, but delicious and greasier. From a secret admirer, maybe. I thought, because that's the kind of secret admirer I'd dig. But, of course, the pizza was not for me, but for the neighbors on the other side of the driveway. Sigh. Jealousy overcame me, but not being able to justify ordering pizza for myself when I have a fridge full of leftovers,I ate the entire box of pizza-stuffed pretzel bites from the freezer. Delicious. Not quite the same, but satisfying nonetheless. Why am I telling you this? Probably because I'm still hoping some secret admirer will send me a pizza.