Case in point, this morning I went down the road to pick up a Tim Hortons double double, a muffin, and a Jamaican patty from the local West Indian grocery shop. I rolled out of bed, exchanged my pjs for black sweats, red glasses, and pink running shoes, then headed out the door.
Sadly, it appears the gallery was hosting an open house day - wine, beverages, and freshly baked goods. Which means that I maaaaay have given the impression that I was a homeless person come in for the free food.
It was shame alone that stopped me from gobbling up all of the chocolate chip cookies on display. Which is fine, because I already have a pint of chocolate brownie fudge ice cream waiting for me at the corner store.