My mom learned she has precancerous cells on her face and within two minutes of receiving this news I dropped the last of Sunday's delicious meatloaf on the floor. Bad day for me, great day for the dogs.
When the universe talks, I listen. The message today seems to be along the lines of: Wear your sunscreen and go vegetarian.
Both of those are better for you than their alternatives. So I went with the flow of events. I ate the broccoli I'd steamed and now there's a frozen meal of Indian chickpeas in the toaster oven. (Incidentally, the plastic from this is melting and while I avoid microwaves for health reasons, I'm pretty sure I'm about to poison my system with the toxins from plastic.)
As I wait for my "meal" the dogs are writhing and snorting on the couch like pigs in mud. Their giddiness is RUDE AND UNCALLED FOR! (I shouted this last part so they could hear it.) I'm so mad. Last night Logan got out of work early (it was a mere eight hour day instead of his usual fourteen hour one.) I wanted to go outside but he wanted to watch Jeopardy and nap beneath the dogs. This pissed me off so when he offered me some meatloaf I rejected it to show how BORING everything in the apartment is. REGRET! Now I'm learning hard that a girl needs to take meatloaf where she can get it. (Unless she goes back to vegetarianism, as she should.)
I know what you're thinking. It was just meatloaf. A loaf of meat. But you've obviously never eaten this meatloaf. It has fresh basil, provolone cheese, and chopped tomatoes (along with the obvious ketchup and bread crumbs, of course.) This loaf of meat was SHEER MAGIC! And now the pit in my stomach rumbles in mourning.
I'm sure it seems as though my priorities stink right now, what with my mom's medical report. But she'll be fine. The doctor assured her that a little zap of liquid nitrogen will get all those funky cells outta there. Yes, I'm nervous about it anyway. Maybe that's why I'm obsessing over the meatloaf that my showboating pomeranians are currently digesting. Maybe I'm deflecting from Mom's medical issue along with the completion of my first novel which is supposed to happen today. Or maybe that meatloaf was just that delicious. I guess we'll never know.
In the meantime, I should walk these little porkers to the deli to get some ice cream that they can later watch me eat. Atta girl!
When the universe talks, I listen. The message today seems to be along the lines of: Wear your sunscreen and go vegetarian.
Both of those are better for you than their alternatives. So I went with the flow of events. I ate the broccoli I'd steamed and now there's a frozen meal of Indian chickpeas in the toaster oven. (Incidentally, the plastic from this is melting and while I avoid microwaves for health reasons, I'm pretty sure I'm about to poison my system with the toxins from plastic.)
As I wait for my "meal" the dogs are writhing and snorting on the couch like pigs in mud. Their giddiness is RUDE AND UNCALLED FOR! (I shouted this last part so they could hear it.) I'm so mad. Last night Logan got out of work early (it was a mere eight hour day instead of his usual fourteen hour one.) I wanted to go outside but he wanted to watch Jeopardy and nap beneath the dogs. This pissed me off so when he offered me some meatloaf I rejected it to show how BORING everything in the apartment is. REGRET! Now I'm learning hard that a girl needs to take meatloaf where she can get it. (Unless she goes back to vegetarianism, as she should.)
I know what you're thinking. It was just meatloaf. A loaf of meat. But you've obviously never eaten this meatloaf. It has fresh basil, provolone cheese, and chopped tomatoes (along with the obvious ketchup and bread crumbs, of course.) This loaf of meat was SHEER MAGIC! And now the pit in my stomach rumbles in mourning.
I'm sure it seems as though my priorities stink right now, what with my mom's medical report. But she'll be fine. The doctor assured her that a little zap of liquid nitrogen will get all those funky cells outta there. Yes, I'm nervous about it anyway. Maybe that's why I'm obsessing over the meatloaf that my showboating pomeranians are currently digesting. Maybe I'm deflecting from Mom's medical issue along with the completion of my first novel which is supposed to happen today. Or maybe that meatloaf was just that delicious. I guess we'll never know.
In the meantime, I should walk these little porkers to the deli to get some ice cream that they can later watch me eat. Atta girl!
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