Saturday, October 18, 2014
It's been another long week at work. But my boss was out sick the last two days, so I was able to get a lot more done. My former carpool buddy has loaned me her spare car while her husband works on mine. I can't believe what kind of friends they've turned out to be.
Today I finally settled on what I'm making for the Halloween baking contest at work, and it'll involve FINALLY christening one of my Good Eats cookbooks. Alton has a chocolate pie recipe that looks spectacular. It's based on silken tofu (not going to mention that part), then swamped in chocolate -- chocolate cookie crumb crust, melted chocolate chips, Kahlua -- it looks amazing. I'm going to dress it up with a "spiderweb" made of white piping icing and "spiders" made from dark cherries. I saw how to make them from olives on Food Network this morning, but the same technique will work with cherries. Cherry halves form the bodies, and cherries cut into eight slices make the legs. I'll put them randomly on the web and hope everybody likes it.
Ex continues to recuperate at home, and Frank continues to tell him not to hurry (as he gets his pillow fluffed and his toes massaged). Frank does NOT want to leave Nurse Heaven!
Now it gets REALLY random.
When I was growing up my parents would both drink and snack all evening. My mother would eat most of a regular bag of potato chips just about every night. My father? Pretty much anything that wasn't nailed down. I've never been much of an after-dinner snacker (thank God), but I've noticed now that just about every other weekend I will eat a party-sized bag over the two and a half days (plus Friday evening). The weird part is that by the bottom of the bag I'm not even liking them. Somehow they put all the big pretty chips on top and the bottom is all greasy crumbs.
Then there's the wine. I enjoy whiskey or rum, but if I don't have it for a long time it's not even close to an issue. Ditto for beer. But wine is different.
Once I was watching an online episode of Chopped After Hours, where the judges from Chopped have to cook the competition basket. Then they share the dishes they made and also drink wine together. I didn't have any wine in the house that night, and I actually burst into tears. The wine to me represented all the fun, creativity and camaraderie they were sharing. it was a scene I wanted into SO badly. (And if a dream I had one night can be believed, judge Marc Murphy is an incredible kisser. But that's another blog post.)
Unique among alcoholic (or any other) beverages, wine occupies a huge place in art, literature, culture and even religion. And in a life that (right now, anyway) has very little grace to it, the wine feels like its one "grace note." This makes it very difficult to let it go.
I'm not even sure where I'm going with this. It's just something I've been thinking about.
Friday, October 10, 2014
(Warning: This is going to be long and likely boring.)
Today my manager told me that our lead representative is quitting in two weeks and guess who is inheriting a nice-sized chunk of her workload? With no corresponding raise in pay? But just last Friday she told me the Big Boss thinks I'm underworked. Right.
Ex is continuing to recover from his recent hospitalization, because he wants to bring Frank back home. Frank is thinking no offense, Dad, but I'm in the lap of Nurse Heaven here! He is in NO hurry at all. Frank turned THIRTY-FIVE on Wednesday. I'm a bit traumatized that the guy who was the size of a football seemingly day before yesterday is now in his mid-thirties.
The depression has been terrible lately. Between losing my sister, getting sick and needing to be rescued and now my carpool buddy leaving the office, I've been in quite a black fog lately. But there have been a few developments.
Sacha's husband is working on fixing my car so I can get it smogged and finally get the tag fixed so I can go out fearlessly. AND she told me tonight that if he doesn't get it done this weekend, they're actually going to find me a car to borrow so I can get to and from work until it's done! I don't know too many friends like that. I had planned to give them two pretty wineglasses and a nice bottle for Christmas, but it's going to have to be WAY more special than that. Maybe one of those wonderful gift boxes from Swiss Colony (I always loved those)?
Thinking about getting my car back with a current tag makes me think about possibly getting out other than to work? I've thought about the local Methodist church (sorry, grandmas). I confess that I had the knee-jerk thought, but what about the Sunday morning Good Eats marathon? I had to sternly remind myself that a) I have a DVR, b) I've seen all of them at least ten times, and c) sweet Alton is a gentleman -- he'll wait for me. I think about things most of you probably take for granted, like going out to breakfast or touring the Christmas lights in December. I've felt for the last couple of years like the world is contracting and I'm vanishing. Maybe that can change?
Mentioning my sister Lynda's name still puts tears in my eyes (she's going to be my profile picture for a long time). But lately I've had mental images of her shaking me and saying something sarcastic (she was VERY proud of her fluency in sarcasm). I know she wouldn't want me to grieve (although that's not humanly possible). But is it also possible that I have a third guardian angel, along with my daughter and grandmother, one who speaks native-fluent sarcasm?
Just waiting for dinner to finish while I watch Cutthroat Kitchen. JMHO, it's the funniest show on TV and God knows, I need the laughs. Looking forward to a SLOW morning tomorrow.
Saturday, October 04, 2014
I still don't know for sure what's happening with the car. My friend's husband wants to try to fix it. I hope he can, because Friday is Sacha's last day at our job.
Friday my boss asked me what I was working on. I told her I'd caught up all my daily assignments and offered to help clear some claim errors. She said no, then told me that the Big Boss has "singled you out as the person with too much time on your hands." So She doesn't want me doing a task but I don't have enough to do? I would give ten years off of my life to be able to retire but I just can't afford it.
Is it ever going to be better? I'm beginning to wonder.
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