Have you ever been so inclined as to pour 1 part Jameson, 1 part Bailey’s Irish Cream into a shot glass, drop it into a freshly drawn pint of Guinness, and then chug the concoction as it fizzes over the side of the glass, swallowing like mad to choke it down the hatch before you notice that the whole thing has curdled?
Oh of course, ahem, me neither.
I’ve been busy climbing the walls, working through what are hopefully the last days of cubicle occupation for the rest of my life. No matter how much I’ve loved or hated the work I’ve done while parked in my cell in various, non-descript office buildings, The thing I will miss least about corporate life is the constant sitting.
I IMed Brian at work today to nag him about going to the gym tonight. Why, you may be asking, would I go ahead and redeem one of the precious few nagging vouchers that are so sparingly distributed to recently-engaged women during these happy pre-wedding plan days? I nag, because I care. I nag because he had eaten at least two of these in the span of 24 hours.
I am dead tired today, and It’s all I can do to keep my eyelids from drooping down over my eyes and obscuring the view of my laptop screen. You see, I haven’t been sleeping very well, and I have a lot of reasons for feeling like I’m one word away from collapse.
It’s been four days since my last post. I hope you don’t think that I ran off and eloped, although, I’d be lying if I said that the thought already hasn’t crossed my mind… just kidding relatives and relatives-to-be!
I can stop my whining about the lackluster fare at the markets - spring has finally arrived, and at long last, the farmers are toting something fresh and new in the backs of those huge trucks. There’s lettuce and baby greens, ramps, asparagus, the first teeny-tiny strawberries, and so much more! And the best part: once the floodgates open, the produce just keeps getting better and better each week as the balmy weeks of summer unfold.
I woke up on Thursday morning having the annual fuzzy, out of body-ish experience of coming to and realizing that, if asked, I would have to say that I was a year older than I would have said the morning before. As in, on Wednesday, I would have said “29″, but on Thursday, the only honest answer would have to be “30″.
With all these big life-changing decisions going on, I’ve been struggling to keep it together this week and I’m going through a mood that’s caused me to briefly lose my enthusiasm for cooking.
For a little while now I’ve been hiding a big secret. It’s incredible, life changing news, and I’m completely surprised that I managed to keep on writing about avocado-mango salsa, strawberry cream tart, and the stand-alone amazingness of artichokes as if nothing else was happening all of this time.
