I hate when I do things like this
One of the things I'll occasionally do on a weekend is cook up a big pile of stuff that will later be lunches or dinners for when I'm rushed. Yesterday I went to the grocery store and picked up a huge amount of stuff for making lunches. Five pounds of meat came home with me; I made absolutely sure that I knew what was going to go with each batch, that I had enough spinach, enough spices, enough chili and lemongrass, etc. I got extra spinach just to make sure. There's always something you can do with spinach.
I walked right by the onion. Boy, thought I, do I have enough onion to last me a year. I certainly don't need any onion.
Guess what I'm out of, after cooking only two batches of stuff.
Guess what every single thing I was going to make will need.
Damn.
A normal person, of course, would just go to the grocery store and buy some onion. But I can't do that. I've been on my feet for nearly an hour now. I could keep cooking, by spending much of the time in a tall chair, but I can't go to the grocery store. Not any more. And if I did go, I sure as heck couldn't cook afterward. Those always have to be two separate days. I was so good, making sure I went to the store on Saturday so I could cook on Sunday. But all it takes is one goof.
Right now I hate being me.
EDIT:
ladycelia is the bestest buddy in the whole wide world. She's going to bring me three big onions when she gets off work.
I walked right by the onion. Boy, thought I, do I have enough onion to last me a year. I certainly don't need any onion.
Guess what I'm out of, after cooking only two batches of stuff.
Guess what every single thing I was going to make will need.
Damn.
A normal person, of course, would just go to the grocery store and buy some onion. But I can't do that. I've been on my feet for nearly an hour now. I could keep cooking, by spending much of the time in a tall chair, but I can't go to the grocery store. Not any more. And if I did go, I sure as heck couldn't cook afterward. Those always have to be two separate days. I was so good, making sure I went to the store on Saturday so I could cook on Sunday. But all it takes is one goof.
Right now I hate being me.
EDIT:
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o_O
Oh, the places I could go...
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If I was you, the "little shit" like this would make me snap.
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There's a pot luck Thanksgiving thing I'm going to this year. I've never been to this group before, so I don't know how many people, who's vegetarian, what they tend to be short on, all that kind of stuff. And if I don't find out what to bring by Tuesday afternoon, I can't bring squat, because of the whole shop one day and cook the next thing. And that's presuming Tuesday evening and Wednesday evening are both free and available to be used up entirely on this.
AAAAAAAAAAAGH.
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ever
ever
ever
ever
give somebody anything I made. Ever.
(I forgot, a while back, and gave somebody my lentil soup. I like that stuff -- spicy, gingery -- but it was totally clear she didn't. She was polite, but. I hate when I forget and do something stupid like that.)
Maybe if I write it on the refrigerator door 100 times in lipstick, I'll remember.
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That soup sounds awesome. I adore soups.
And fuck that snob. I hope her tongue falls off.
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To me, homemade food gifts are an expression of friendship that will never be turned down. I love the thought that goes into doing something like that. And if you ever forget my allergy, it is not your problem, but mine. (My mother used to forget my allergy.) Then we will laugh about it - because at least my reaction is not life threatening, but funny.
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Still, friendship or not, thoughtful or not, it's true that what I make tends to be... unpopular. I guess that saves me from learning yet another immensely time-consuming and somewhat expensive hobby! With all the time I save, I will RULE THE WORLD HAHAHAHA... um... er. Well, it was an amusing thought.
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I have it on good authority that watching me trying to scratch what is itching results in amusing facial contortions.
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I'm just ticked off at the whole pile of limitations, know what I mean? And I can't even hope that in three months or ten years it will be any better. GRRRRR.
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And your food can't be that bad!
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Some day, I swear, I'm going to retire and I'm going to do things like meet my neighbors.