long days, long nights

It’s been an odd week.

  • I’ve been working some relatively long hours.
  • I chose to wear a collard shirt and dressy slacks at the bank, outside my normal jeans-and-a-tee.
  • With my Sis, I delivered a brand new iMac to my parents house. Watching Mom have fun with the iChat video tricks was priceless.
  • The Sarah Silverman look-alike got kicked off ANTM.
  • I’ve scheduled the delivery of my new television. Large it is, much television I will watch.
  • I have yet to prepare my final tax papers for tomorrow’s appointment with my accountant.
  • I planted the format of the simple past-tense of Greek verbs firmly in my brain.

What random jumble of musings. Aside from getting my taxes done this weekend, I have to clean my house from top to bottom this weekend, including removing most of the uneaten-and-will-spoil-because-it’s-forbidden food from my ‘fridge to make way for the fruits and veggies of the coming weeks.

I’ve decided to fall full-speed ahead into the fast with one exception. My friend Laura will be coming by on Wednesday night to have dinner and watch ANTM with me. I’m thinking I’ll roast a chicken, make some lemon-garlic broccoli and rosemary smashed red-bliss, and pig out with her.

My goal is to sit us both down with a roasted chicken (or two poussion) surrounded with delicious sides and pick it (or them) bare with our hands. There is something about diving fingers-first into a roasted chicken (or poussion) that is carnivorously fascinating and satisfying at the same time.

I am at the top of the food chain. Roar.

Twenty days until vacation in the desert. Tick-mutha-effin-tock.

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