Y’all, it has been one of those weeks. One of those “two” weeks really.
I just got home from a meeting which made it my 9th night in a row of “stuff.” I’m not (necessarily) complaining. I signed up for everything I do; I enjoy it all and it all means something to me. But maaaan, am I tired.
I feel like I’m living life like…
So, tonight when I got home I decided I needed to make myself dinner and take a few minutes to myself; soak up some silence, remember what I’m thankful for, remember what I do it all for, eat a home cooked meal…
So, because I’m a freak, I organized all my cabinets and then poured a glass of wine and decided to make a little eggplant parmesan – it’s one of my very favorites and I deserve it. I carefully peeled my little eggplant, sliced it in pretty perfect 1 inch rounds, tossed it in a carefully-measured bread crumb mix, greased my pan, put the slices in the oven, made some noodles, mixed up some spices to “spice up” a jar of tomato sauce, pulled out a nice plate, set everything up pretty as a magazine picture… and then poured cinnamon all over the entire thing because I was too tired to read the label (and had reorganized my cabinets) and thought it was a jar of red pepper flakes.
You know what’s even sadder… I still ate it.
…I think maybe your taste buds die a little the crazier and sleepier you get.
Cheers to everyone out there fighting your way through the week. You are not alone and I appreciate you. Give ’em hell.