Here's how my day went:
Woke up
Looked at random shiz on Facebook
Got up from the floor (I threw myself there when I woke up-- DON'T ASK)
Went to the bathroom, brushed my teeth, all that jazz
Went downstairs
Ate breakfast with my family. AT LIKE 1P.M.
Here comes the hatred of the idea of lunch (despite the fact that our "breakfast" was at lunchtime)
As soon as my mother finished eating her "breakfast" and washing dishes....
Guess what she did. No? Okay, I'll just tell you.
SHE STARTED MAKING DINNER.
DINNER.
AT 2.
D-I-N-N-E-R!
It's funny how it only works that way if/when you're at home, surrounded by Puerto Ricans.
Let me explain: If my mom (I love you mom) was at work, she would have breakfast, then lunch at 12ish, and then dinner when she got home at like 6ish. See? Three meals: breakfast, LUNCH, and dinner.
Sometimes, not even *I* understand why things are the way they are...
HALP