(I'm not black. But many people think I am. Especially Rio. So I think I have to dedicate this photo to him. You're welcome, buddy.)
Garlic
For some reason, my co-worker decided that I would be able to run the cooking group for the clients by myself. I have made no secret of the fact that I do not know how to cook. Like, legitimately. Case in point: I was at the grocery store and the recipe called for 4 cloves of garlic. Okay, easy enough, I know what garlic looks like.
It wasn’t until I was chopping said garlic that the patient asked why I had bought 4 bulbs of garlic when there were about 8 cloves within each bulb.
They really should be clearer about what the hell a clove is.
Food Validation
I love food. This is also not a secret. But for some reason, whenever I eat a lot of food, I feel that I need to tell every God forsaken person that I come in contact with that I ate way more food than is considered proper. My co-worker? Told him. A cashier? Told her. And the one person whom I find I MUST tell and if I don’t, the world will collapse? My Mom. For some reason, her reaction will either make or break my emotional stability regarding my eating habits (yes, I have food issues. Yes, I have sought help for them).
“Mom, I ate, like 3 skittles, 4 chocolate chips, a piece of bread, AND a spoonful of peanut butter!”
…hahahahaha, ya right. It’s more like: “I ate a poutine, 3 chocolate bunnies, 2 Big Macs, and an apple.”
Because, really – who eats only 3 skittles?
Anticipating an Awkward Situation
I work with a really great guy, and he mentioned at one point that I should come and visit him and his family at their weekend home, which is by a beautiful beach and has been completely renovated.
Great, right?
Not for me. It is at that moment when I begin to anticipate the inevitable awkwardness that I will feel – and show – at being at a place I don’t know, with people whom I’m not completely familiar with. Because while many people will just go and have fun and shoot the shit, I agonize over what I’m going to say, whether or not my jokes will be funny, and what terms I’ll have to censor. I will most likely end up sweating profusely and for no reason, laughing at things that aren’t supposed to be funny, and divulging really personal information that no one EVER needs to hear about.
Sometimes it’s a bitch being so awkward.
Love,
M
seriously...wtf is a clove? don’t worry, you're a better chef than I am!
ReplyDeleteand who only eats 3 skittles? it's like that scene in clueless when Cher is telling D about all she ate and is like "5 peanut m&m's"...umm, 5 packets of peanut m&m's is more accurate.
LOL that is exactly the scene I was thinking about when I wrote that. And yeah, I've never NOT finished a package of anything.
DeleteI usually finish multiples of them :(