Welcome to the weekend.
Funny how alcohol can both start and end relationships. Oh vodka, my friend, quit being so bipolar. — hungover sunday revelations
I think I’m perfectly capable of cooking a 7 course meal if I so chose; but I have a case of the “instant gratifications” and when I’m hungry, I want to eat, not cook. I also have this amazing and unfortunate indifference when it comes to variety…. I have no problem eating an omelette for dinner every.single.day. I really don’t care if my food looks appetizing, hence, my “refrigerator stew,” where leftovers get thrown together in a pot to die.
Usually, I just lie and say I’m a great cook when I’m trying to impress a date. Pretending to be cute and domestic works 90% percent of the time because no one really ever calls me out on it. This last time, I backed myself into a corner that I could only cook my way out of. No ordering take-out and pretending I made it. This was the real deal and I needed help.
I called my favorite guy friend (Hey Tom) known for being brutally honest asked what he would want if a girl was making dinner. “Steak and naked”. Yea ok. Thanks, Tom. I guess I’ll make steak.
Then I called my brother, who actually can cook and asked for his favorite steak and potato recipe. I don’t really eat steak, I don’t know what it’s supposed to taste like, but apparently men really love steak, so basically I had no choice.
I bought all the ingredients. I studied the recipe, I knew when and what temperature to preheat the oven to. I made a background music play list, I bought wine. I was overly prepared.
What if it’s a disaster? What if he gets sick? What if he realizes I’m a phony and never calls again? What if I burn the apartment building down and I lose my favorite shoes?
All of these scenarios are smashing together in my head. Then I hear Tom’s voice say, “Steak and naked” and everything becomes so simple. I take off my pants.
I’m not sure if it was knowing that my date was distracted, or if maybe my adrenaline kicked in, but somehow cooking in my underwear was much easier than cooking in my clothes.
I don’t think he really cared about the food. I’m also pretty sure he thinks I’m a complete lunatic. I’m not sure whether it was because I really am a good cook, or if I get super-powers from prancing around in my underwear; but I do know that the steak turned out to be delicious, and from now on, anything important will be done without pants.
Fragile.
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Sometimes when you need a “sign from above” it comes in the form of graffiti on the ground.
Honestly the only people who shouldn’t be stabbed for wearing Uggs are babies and dead people who’ve already been stabbed for wearing Uggs. — Babe, from White Girl Problems managed to say what I’ve been struggling to articulate for years. Her description of the puffy monstrosities is poetry to my ears.
Anybody but these two. No. You just can’t break up. Have you tried date night? What about a vacation? You can make it work, I know you can.
You know that couple that makes you love love? The ones that give you that warm & fuzzy feeling that all is well in the world of relationships? Then they break up and stab your love dreams in the face.
The last time I felt like this was when my favorite couple of all time Lydia and Erin (hey ladies) announced their split. That was years ago. I’m still not over it.
Lawd, please, please don’t let the Beckham’s be next.
So… that was Monday.
I’m back in the world of a waking up early, wearing a suit, working all day and going to happy hour. I love a steady paycheck and health insurance. I hate the florescent lighting and waking up early and wearing a suit and working all day.
I’ve been there long enough now that my co-workers are comfortable telling me how they really feel and I’m comfortable enough to make them feel that way, apparently.
Monday’s are tough. Wednesday’s are tough. Friday’s are tough. I can deal with Tuesday and Thursday, but that’s about it.
I’ve also realized that I don’t seem to get sick unless I’m working in an office all day, so it’s all really just an evil cycle. Funny how that works.
Classic case of the grass is always greener.