Friday evening I headed out. Things were kind of dead though. Such a shame. The evening had started with such promise. I had had to stop at the gas station for cigs. On the way out, I decided to give the guys a show. Because I was wearing jeans and flats, this meant the stomp-walk. Walked well enough across the parking lot that one of the guys pulling out of the station was inspired to yell out for me to stop. Now normally I'm not a hollaback girl but he had an accent and I had to find out from where. Turns out it was Senegal. But after that it was all downhill. I went home after three drinks. Only paid for two though. Thank you, fave bartender.
Saturday I awoke quite hungry. It was then that I realized that I had never done the monthly grocery shopping as was evidenced by the lack of choices in the fridge. I made a sketchy shopping list and headed off to the grocery store. This was after cleaning the various science projects out of the fridge and washing up the various things they had been stored in. Yep, Saturday's theme was domesticity. So now the fridge is filled with all kinds of wonderful things once more. And I guess this week that I will eat more than one meal -- lunch -- per day. That tends to happen when there isn't anything in the fridge.
I thought about heading out Saturday night but then I remembered how dull Friday night was. I just couldn't find the energy to get all dressed up. So I went to sleep early so that I could watch movies all through the night. Because given a choice, I really am a nocturnal creature. And the fun of staying awake until the wee hours of the morning (something like 6 a.m. if I am not mistaken), is that apparently the cats are not nocturnal creatures. While I sat up watching movie after movie, they slept. I will have to keep this in mind over the summer.
Sunday morning I thought of making some chicken hash but then decided that perhaps I would have it for dinner instead. I love having breakfast for dinner. So I cooked up a pound of bacon because I was seeing salads in my future. And everything is better with bacon. You know what's better than bacon? More bacon.
And then I remembered a responsibility that I had shirked last weekend -- tutoring. I pick up extra party money by tutoring the daughter of a family friend once a week. We had agreed to change the day from Wednesday afternoon to Sunday. Except last week I completely forgot. I think it was also in the haze of having to complete report cards and getting the kids ready for the assembly. Part of me wanted to beg off this weekend. Then I remembered that I had some shopping to do near them so I might as well go and pick up the extra shopping cash. And then I called to confirm and found out that my wish had been granted. I didn't have to go so I headed to the kitchen.
Now I love food but I don't often post food because my typical meal? Pretty mundane. I often don't have the energy to do anything that I feel is postworthy on a regular basis. Witness below.
A Cobb salad
Many nights I have a salad like the one pictured for dinner. The chicken I used in this was from a rotisserie chicken. Saturday I had another salad for lunch, without the bacon and with honey mustard dressing instead of the blue cheese.
I also turned the chicken breast into a curry chicken salad. That will be part of my lunch today. When I was grocery shopping on Saturday, I decided to be lazy and bought yellow curry seasoning. When I added it to the chicken salad, that also contains golden raisin, pecans, and a little bit of celery, I noticed that the flavors were off. So I added more cumin and turmeric. I also noticed a lack of cardamom in the ingredients label so of course I added some of that as well. (There was that moment when I looked in the cabinet and couldn't find the jar and freaked out. Because I always have cardamom on hand. Then I remembered the bulk bag I had from the Indian market. After I finished mixing, I spotted the jar. Right in front of me on the counter. D'oh!) Oh, and there was the dash of cinnamon. I'm pretty pleased with the result. Guess I can stop paying $7 for a pint of the stuff. Besides the stuff that I used to buy was heavy on the mayo -- the way that my mom would like it. She always complains that I don't use enough when I make tuna or chicken salad. I don't know but I just don't like it to be runny. Kind of reminiscent of my mom's cooked vegetables.
And yeah, I thought about heading out for a bit early Sunday evening. But my heart just wasn't in it. I think if I had fun on Friday, the rest of the weekend could have been different. (And I was able to tune into Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle at my favorite moment. "Lap dance.") I also blame the napping cats. Seeing napping cats does little to inspire one for movement. Because as I am typing this, I can see Boris stretched out in a position that I can only think cannot be comfortable. But it also seems to say, "Go to sleep. You know you want to sleep."
And I was kind of happy at the end of TAR on Sunday night.
So I'm off for another day of trying to convince a bunch of fifth graders that throwing up the sign for your block is not cool. Somedays I feel like I am fighting a losing battle. The folks on the block? They offer the real American dream -- instant gratification and "love" and "support." What I offer? It takes more work and time. No, I take that back. Selling product is hard work. It's just more profitable than selling other stuff. And then there's the excitement of sideshows and, sadly enough, someone getting shot. And maybe that's why I like to "escape" on weekends because if I had to think about this 24/7, I don't know if I could handle it. But maybe they'll realize that my love and support is for real and make the right choice.
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