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Sunday, January 22, 2012

Just me and my kitchenaide

Do you ever feel like all you do is stand in the kitchen? At least, when you're actually graced with the opportunity to be home? Sometimes, especially at that wonderful 28 day mark- it depresses me.
I feel like I am never, ever home, and when I am home, I'm either packing up breakfast and a snack for work- putting together lunch for Jory and laying out multi-vitamins (gotta have a healthy prostate! Jory- not me.) Or I'm running home, through the door- throwing my pants and shoes on the stairs while bowling pasta and chopping that ever so frustrating GARLIC (which I complain about daily so I don't know why I just don't go buy a stupid garlic press).

If it's not cooking, blending or mixing, it's cleaning and rinsing and wiping off counters.

Speaking of wiping off counters, please don't judge me for what I'm going to say next. I had peeled some cucumbers like 2 weeks ago and cleaned up most of my mess but seemed to miss a cucumber peel, so sat it on the counter over night and cemented itself to the counter. Every day I would spray it with cleaner, to soak it up so I could wipe it off, and I would leave to do something, then- forget to wipe that wretched thing off the counter. The cleaner would evaporate and peel would then again, cement itself to the counter. I finally got that stupid peel off the counter today, after many soaking attempts. I'm so relieved.

I really love to cook, so I know that I am putting myself in these situations where I never leave the kitchen, but some days it gets overwhelming and I feel that my life revolves around work and food. And really, life just shouldn't revolve around work and food. And if it does, exercise has better get itself into this lifestyle or I'm going have to make some drastic changes with all this darn food in our lives.

I do feel like I have learned a lot about cooking these last few years, though. But, this week I realized I have a long way to go. And I learned it from Jory, who never cooks, so that kind of popped my little balloon of "feeling like a experienced chef", or whatever.
To make a a long embarrassing story not so long, if something called for something is oz- and I didn't have it pre-measured, I would put it in my measuring glass that had fluid oz on it. I thought they were the same thing.
They're not. And Jory laughed. And I just felt really stupid. : )
That might explain a lot...

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