That room between the dining room and the door
Yep, that's the one they call the "kitchen." Supposedly, these "kitchens" are used for the preparation of meals such as "dinner." From what I understand, "dinner" is something one can actually eat at "home."
That's a concept with which I am unfamiliar this week. I have not done a thing, other than make coffee or pour a bowl of cereal, in my kitchen since Sunday. Oh wait, earlier tonight I used the kitchen island to sort some mail. (Mail that, to my ever-lovin' surprise, contained a bill from the gastroenterologist for what turns out to be my $250 copay for last month's endoscopy. What a nice surprise on the same day that I learned my insurance didn't cover $105 my eye exam last week or the $75 I was charged for the approximately 12 seconds it took my eye doc to pull an inverted eyelash out of my head. Why I pay for this "insurance" is anyone's guess.)
Back to the subject at hand: It's been a hell of a week. I've been having trouble adjusting to the morning portion of daylight savings time, which requires me to get out of bed when the alarm goes off, rather than, say, an hour later. And we've been busy, which for some reason has meant multiple meals out in a row. To wit:
Monday: Grandmother in hospital. Long day at work. Too stressed to cook = eggplant parm from the House of Pizza, plus a couple glasses of a Spanish red.
Tuesday: Long day at work. Spaghetti, meatballs and sausage at sister and fiance's new house, plus a local brew (bottled) and two glasses of a California zinfandel.
Wednesday: Really long day at work, largely spent dealing with organizationally challenged journalism neophytes. Planned meal: Homemade felafel. Actual meal: Two pints of a local brew and a lousy chicken quesadilla at a sports bar. Yes, a sports bar. Not really sure how I can explain that one, other than that we were invited, and we went. And it was fun.
Thursday: Long day at work, followed by an evening at the theater with free tickets from godforsaken job. Dinner: One pint of local brew, plus crabcake salad at a non-sports bar. And a piece of giant chocolate chip cookie in the theater lobby.
Friday: Long day at work, with the knowledge that Saturday morning will be spent - you guessed it! - working. Dinner with friends at our fabulous neighborhood restaurant: Two glasses of a light French red, bites of several amazing appetizers, including green beans wrapped in prosciutto and rare seared tuna, an entree of homemade pasta, asparagus tips and ham in a light and tasty cream sauce, plus a too-rich dessert involving a homemade tart shell and lots of pastry cream.
Is it any wonder that my jeans are too tight? This is absurd. I haven't gotten to the gym since Monday, since I can't drag my sorry ass out of bed in the morning. Which, of course, results from the fact that I haven't gotten home before 9 most nights, which means I am up late winding down. And then it starts all over again.
Tomorrow I am returning to my marginally healthy ways. Going to the gym in the morning (after opening the joint checking account!), then doing the editing I need to finish before Monday. Then helping Darren clean up from a winter of two dogs using one yard as their personal toilet, and perhaps even cleaning out the Honda. And, after that, meeting up with D. and S. for a walk and, ummm, a beer. And, I'm sure, making a healthful, nutritious "dinner" in our "kitchen" after that.
PS: In case you're wondering, my grandmother is still in the hospital. She's definitely got pneumonia, and her blood sugar is still screwy, but she sounds feisty and irritated, which I think is a good thing. No sign yet when they'll let her go, but she seems ok.
That's a concept with which I am unfamiliar this week. I have not done a thing, other than make coffee or pour a bowl of cereal, in my kitchen since Sunday. Oh wait, earlier tonight I used the kitchen island to sort some mail. (Mail that, to my ever-lovin' surprise, contained a bill from the gastroenterologist for what turns out to be my $250 copay for last month's endoscopy. What a nice surprise on the same day that I learned my insurance didn't cover $105 my eye exam last week or the $75 I was charged for the approximately 12 seconds it took my eye doc to pull an inverted eyelash out of my head. Why I pay for this "insurance" is anyone's guess.)
Back to the subject at hand: It's been a hell of a week. I've been having trouble adjusting to the morning portion of daylight savings time, which requires me to get out of bed when the alarm goes off, rather than, say, an hour later. And we've been busy, which for some reason has meant multiple meals out in a row. To wit:
Monday: Grandmother in hospital. Long day at work. Too stressed to cook = eggplant parm from the House of Pizza, plus a couple glasses of a Spanish red.
Tuesday: Long day at work. Spaghetti, meatballs and sausage at sister and fiance's new house, plus a local brew (bottled) and two glasses of a California zinfandel.
Wednesday: Really long day at work, largely spent dealing with organizationally challenged journalism neophytes. Planned meal: Homemade felafel. Actual meal: Two pints of a local brew and a lousy chicken quesadilla at a sports bar. Yes, a sports bar. Not really sure how I can explain that one, other than that we were invited, and we went. And it was fun.
Thursday: Long day at work, followed by an evening at the theater with free tickets from godforsaken job. Dinner: One pint of local brew, plus crabcake salad at a non-sports bar. And a piece of giant chocolate chip cookie in the theater lobby.
Friday: Long day at work, with the knowledge that Saturday morning will be spent - you guessed it! - working. Dinner with friends at our fabulous neighborhood restaurant: Two glasses of a light French red, bites of several amazing appetizers, including green beans wrapped in prosciutto and rare seared tuna, an entree of homemade pasta, asparagus tips and ham in a light and tasty cream sauce, plus a too-rich dessert involving a homemade tart shell and lots of pastry cream.
Is it any wonder that my jeans are too tight? This is absurd. I haven't gotten to the gym since Monday, since I can't drag my sorry ass out of bed in the morning. Which, of course, results from the fact that I haven't gotten home before 9 most nights, which means I am up late winding down. And then it starts all over again.
Tomorrow I am returning to my marginally healthy ways. Going to the gym in the morning (after opening the joint checking account!), then doing the editing I need to finish before Monday. Then helping Darren clean up from a winter of two dogs using one yard as their personal toilet, and perhaps even cleaning out the Honda. And, after that, meeting up with D. and S. for a walk and, ummm, a beer. And, I'm sure, making a healthful, nutritious "dinner" in our "kitchen" after that.
PS: In case you're wondering, my grandmother is still in the hospital. She's definitely got pneumonia, and her blood sugar is still screwy, but she sounds feisty and irritated, which I think is a good thing. No sign yet when they'll let her go, but she seems ok.
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