Is my sandwich stale?

My good friend Red Shoes told me today, "your sandwich is stale."
"What?"
"Your sandwich is stale, you need a new post."
 Actually I'd been thinking about it on the way to school. I know getting new bras and a good samich will only carry an audience so far.
I know I need a new post but my thoughts are all over the place lately.
What I'd really like to talk about...are things I can't talk about. To let these thoughts out of their cage would open a window that I may never be able to fly back through, hurt the feelings of those written about, get me in trouble at work, show me for the judgemental, sarcastic person I am (deep inside). So, no deep revelations here, no snarky comments about other bloggers, no tell-alls about family or work.
I will say this:
I am too noisy. My husband complains that I'm "too loud" when I sleep. No, not "you snore." I BREATH too loud... Oh I'm sorry darling, I'll try not to breath. This, after all of the years I have put up with his horrendous snoring.
I am being asked to do more, for less, at work.
I am waking up with a start, around 4 in the morning, and feeling immediate anxiety for no reason. Well, we all know there's always a reason, but what is it?
I LOVE once again working with kids at school.
I am uneasy about my job and it's future, as in next year. Just a gut feeling, but still...
I need a haircut.
I have company coming from out of town and my stove is dirty, my new family room pillows are, as yet, pillow forms lined up over bolts of fabric on my family room floor. My sewing machine sits next to all of it, crying out for some action.
The desk chair is still not painted black and the shower curtain fabric is nestled amongst the "future pillows."
I have a crap load of things to do, but am not motivated. Carol, my visitor, won't care if I have a new shower curtain made.
I'm reading a terrific book, Half Broke Horses.
See? My thoughts are all over the place.

This one is for girls only.

After getting a couple of new bras, I had a craving for a Schlotzky's.
When I was pregnant with my caboose, I lived on these sandwiches and came out of the pregnancy 15 lbs lighter than when I went in! Sitting there eating my lunch took me back to those days, they were pretty darn good. All of my other kids were in school, I wasn't working then, (at least not for pay), I'd get up, pack lunches, cook pancakes (I was the uber homemaker), clean the house (I vacuumed every day!), put in some laundry, then go shopping, volunteer at school, work on projects, take a little nap just before the kids came home... yes, the good ol' days! Not that these days also aren't pretty darn good...
Speaking of bra shopping, there is not much I dislike more than getting half nekkid in a dressing room and trying on bras. You feel so vulnerable. So I don't. I bring a bunch home and return the ones I don't want. Ladies, is there anything that feels better than a new, well fitting bra! My poor girls were gettin' no support! They'd start off okay but after a little while they'd start the inevitable downward spiral, well not really a spiral, but definitely downward. You know the Cheryl Crow song "Are You Strong Enough to be My Man"?  My bra shopping anthem is "Are you Strong Enough to be My Bra?" I want thick straps, underwires, side stays, sturdy but smooth cups and as many hooks on the back as you want to provide! THAT is not an easy thing to find! But I found a couple at Penney's and they were 25% off, to boot!
So a Schlotzky's sandwich and well supported boobies...it was a good day!