In Which I Channel My Inner Monica
Mincing garlic is really fucking tough when you're working with a dull knife.
There's a lot of stuff on my mind right now (okay, well, there's a lot of stuff on my mind ALL THE GODDAMN TIME) and sometimes, the best thing for me to do when that is happening is to just have a day of domesticity. Like, when one gets their house in order, they get themselves in order too? So today, on this deliciously breezy Saturday, I've thrown open all the doors and windows and am doing my best to ignore all of my jumbled up thoughts and just knuckle down to housework.
I've got beef stroganoff simmering away in the slow cooker--and can I just say how much I love slow-cookers?--and here's the funny thing about that: I hate beef stroganoff. I have ALWAYS hated beef stroganoff. Even the name grosses me out. It sounds so...dubious. What the hell does "stroganoff" even mean? But that aside, I promised to cook a little for our housemate Johnny (he's 25 and in desperate need of some mothering and is even more useless in the kitchen than I am), and he said beef stroganoff is his favorite meal. So here we are.
Laundry, litter-scooping, vaccuuming, a little bit of mopping, and scrubbing down the bathroom...I think these will all be acceptable ways to beat my thoughts into some order and get a handle on things. And then, when I've done all of that, perhaps I will escape to the craft room and the wine. If housework doesn't fix things, then god knows that will!
There's a lot of stuff on my mind right now (okay, well, there's a lot of stuff on my mind ALL THE GODDAMN TIME) and sometimes, the best thing for me to do when that is happening is to just have a day of domesticity. Like, when one gets their house in order, they get themselves in order too? So today, on this deliciously breezy Saturday, I've thrown open all the doors and windows and am doing my best to ignore all of my jumbled up thoughts and just knuckle down to housework.
I've got beef stroganoff simmering away in the slow cooker--and can I just say how much I love slow-cookers?--and here's the funny thing about that: I hate beef stroganoff. I have ALWAYS hated beef stroganoff. Even the name grosses me out. It sounds so...dubious. What the hell does "stroganoff" even mean? But that aside, I promised to cook a little for our housemate Johnny (he's 25 and in desperate need of some mothering and is even more useless in the kitchen than I am), and he said beef stroganoff is his favorite meal. So here we are.
Laundry, litter-scooping, vaccuuming, a little bit of mopping, and scrubbing down the bathroom...I think these will all be acceptable ways to beat my thoughts into some order and get a handle on things. And then, when I've done all of that, perhaps I will escape to the craft room and the wine. If housework doesn't fix things, then god knows that will!