A colleague of mine guilted me into going to the grocery store tonight to “stock up” for the impending doom of our “biggest snowstorm of the decade.” Yeah, whatever. I have yet to see a flake of snow fall from the skies, but I did make an excellent dinner. Somehow, mashing the hell out of things and chopping shit up while listening to jazz makes me feel better. Tonight, I substituted Damien Rice for Miles Davis, but the effect was still the same.
Or maybe it was the glass of red wine. Who knows?
I apologize in advance to the veggie-heads out there, but I made steak for dinner. I topped it with baby portobellos and red onions that had been sauteed in pinot noir — something I learned from R. @ Christmas time. We also had mashed sweet potatoes and I made The Coach a box of Stove Top (I know, I know – more white trashy than elegant). Afterwards, I went up to the bedroom to watch a couple episodes of Bones while The Coach was watching Rome. Now? I’m drinking a cup of chocolate milk — and I usually don’t like milk, at all — because I had an impulse in the grocery store. I’m about to curl up in bed with some brain candy (i.e., a girly romance) and crank the electric blanket on high. Who knows? Maybe someone will answer my prayers and dump so much snow on us that school will be cancelled.
