Wannabe Martha

Still trying to figure out which Martha

Reality-Based Menu – Reluctant Edition

It was a dark and stormy weekend.  Not the weather.  The world.

I was a young girl in that city.  And even then, in the 70’s there were threats of terrorism – indeed, it was not uncommon for me to come home from school and see several SWAT-type vans across the street (I lived across from an embassy which was frequently the target of terrorists).  I suppose I’ve always hoped that people grow out of trying to kill one another – unrealistic, yes, but what can I say – I’m sort of Pollyanna-ish that way.

This week’s menu:

  • Monday – Roasted Chicken Thighs; Cauliflower; Rice Pilaf
  • Tuesday – Girls at their Dad’s – leftovers, I think
  • Wednesday – Shredded Pork, Sesame Broccoli; Lentils
  • Thursday – Leftovers
  • Friday – DIY dinner
  • Weekend – I’ll think of something

If I have the time, I think I’ll pick up a pear and some dried tart cherries and make a Clafoutis (this one, from Martha Stewart) and watch my favorite movie set in that city (Charade), and have my own little tribute.

Anyone else up for cooking something French this week?

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We’re Probably All Going to Starve

Well, that might be a slight exaggeration.  Truthfully, other than a pot of chickpeas, I got nothin’.  Also, I don’t really care that there’s nothin’ (its the latter than has me most worried).  Of all the things with which one can be afflicted, apathy is one of the most disheartening precisely because you don’t even care that you’re completely disheartened.

Does that make sense?

This morning I woke with a profound case of don’t-give-a-crap-itis.  I pawned off the transportation of Iseult to her carpool onto her sister.  Then I thought about making coffee for an hour or so.  Then I debated the merits of showering over just lumbering into the office to face yet another day of gut-twisting work.  Somewhere in there I turned on the pot of beans.  They’re draining now, and I feel somewhat pressured to do something with them (so naturally, there’s a bit of antipathy towards them now).

The fact is that this week is going to suck big time – it’s MONTHLY STATUS REPORT season, which means I’d pretty much rather be struck down with typhoid than have to be at work.

Well, now that I’ve got this pity party well underway, is anyone else lurking in misery, or am I flying solo here?

Plus – is anyone cooking anything good?

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Doing Better

Even when you think you’re ready.  You’ve rehearsed it all; digested it all; talked it to death.

And then at that moment when it all actually happens – a judge declares that you’re not married anymore, well, it left me gasping for air.

And I was as ready as I possibly could be.

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Bleak

I thought about spending the day hiding under the covers and only poking my head up for some coffee.

But then Iseult reminded me that I had to take her to her morning carpool and she has PT this afternoon.

So  much for that.

So then I thought I would file some claims with the FSA.  And it took three (3, tres, trois, drei, kaksi, III) hours to file 4 receipts.

So then I wandered a little bit through the interwebz and that was just as depressing.  Calm down, people, just take a breath and calm down.

Yesterday after Court my BFF and I were walking back to the parking garage (that was, so help me, something like 5 miles away) and as we passed Toast, we were assaulted by the smell of really tasty food so we stopped and got lunch to go and while waiting I had the MOST UBERDELICIOUS LATTE EVER IN THE HISTORY OF DELICIOUS LATTES – the Cinnamon Dolce Latte.  It almost eased the hurt.

I might get another one today.

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Desperate Times Call for Desperate Measures

So, umm, just what the heck is that Maevey?

 

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Maeve’s General-All-purpose-Mood-Enhancer

Why it’s a spoonful of peanut butter with chocolate syrup on it.

Isn’t that sort of the universal female answer to all our travails? You got something better?

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Trudging Through Molassas

So I finally went back to Mass.

Which is better than not going, right?  Maybe?

Then I cleaned house.

Both have been highly cathartic experiences for me in the past. 

Not so much anymore.

Maybe next week.

Maybe if I could just sleep.

 

[Edited to add – Tuesday Edition – there is every reason to believe that I’m going to stick my foot in my mouth and choke on it – probably all day long.  Or pick a fight I don’t even care about winning.  Le Sigh.]

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Le Meh – It Continues

It would appear that I’m jonesin’ for a fight.  You know how that is, right?  You’re cranky and irritated and you just want to duke it out (preferably with someone who’s feeling similarly inclined so you can be friends afterwards).

It’s sort of a dangerous state for me, because I get just a leeeeeeetle free with my words (verbal/written, doesn’t matter) and you know how hard it is to take back things you say.  I’m always skating a thin line anyway, so it’s especially important that I get a grip.

I’m trying to figure out what’s eating at me.  There’s this massive crisis of faith I’m dealing with (or not dealing with); there’s the pending finalization of my divorce; there’s the insomnia; there’s the worry over my girls. Then there’s the mass insanity going on all over the world.  But none of this is exactly “new”, so I’m not quite sure what has me all riled up this week in particular.

Maybe I need some down time – real downtime.  Or sleep.  Or a good book.

Or cheesecake.

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Happy National Buttermilk Bisuit Day

I’m not baking today (work is just overwhelming plus I’m kind of feeling sort of despair-ish, and that’s not good for baking).

There is good news, however, mouthwateringly tasty news – rather than give into overwhelming feelings of inadequacy, I headed over to The Kitchn because of this post – which of course led me to discover a new blog (The Candid Appetite) – and you know I need to follow another foodie blog like I need, well, never mind.  Anyway, Fried Chicken & Waffle Sandwich – that’s what’ he’s pimping.  And not just any waffle – a bacon/scallion/cheese waffle.  So far I’ve resisted purchasing a waffle iron, but this – this might just push me over the edge.

I  need that sandwich!!

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