…first you cry and tweet about it.
Then you apparently make soup.
My regular Saturday routine is to get up, go to the gym, and then go grocery shopping. But since I’ve felt like a giant bag o’arse lately and have had the strangest calf cramps, I’ve laid off of running for awhile (and then a lovely headache kept me from a long run yesterday. Life sure does rock, eh? wheeeeee!).
So first, because I have priorities, I had to check out the newest Red Rocket Coffee location near my apartment because I love me my americanos in the morning and I’m all about the independent TO coffee shops.
So with my giant caffeinated beverage in hand, I went off to NoFrills to procure my veggies and meat to keep me going this week. After paying for my loot, and packing all my stuff away in my reusable bags, I put one of them down on the ground to try so that I could start the balancing act for the trek home.
And it happened.
The lady next to me had a small buggy to carry her groceries home. It toppled over onto my bag, snapping my freshly purchased stalk of broccoli into two (and ripping a green pepper in half as well). She seemed horrified and extremely apologetic. I played it off like it was no big thing but inside I was crushed like the poor green vegetable.
I wrote about my plight and the common reaction was to make soup out of it.
And so I did.
I cut up the broccoli, added a sweet potato, a zucchini and some baby carrots. I added enough water to cover them and three cloves of garlic.
I boiled the crap out of them and then added some milk and let it boil some more, adding salt, pepper and spices to make it a bit tastier.
All in all, it turned out pretty well. It tastes more like sweet potato than anything else, though.
But even if it was bad, I’ll have to eat it for the week as it made a heck of a lot of soup!
And from soup, we go to NUTS!
I went to weigh myself this morning, knowing full well I’d be up after shovelling copious amounts of crap into my mouth last night at a Mother’s Day dinner with Jainey, Mom & Daddy-o at Red Lobster (and then paying for it with a crazy amounts of stomach issues).
So with a great heaviness and a huge sigh, I stepped on the scale this morning and accepted my fate, only to see “Lo.”
No, it’s not telling me that I’m getting so tiny that it can’t possibly weigh me any more, it’s telling me that it’s such a crappy scale that it eats through batteries faster than I can eat through a brick of cheese.
Seriously. If you ever find yourself contemplating a Weight Watchers Conair scale, run in the other direction. Please. For the love of all things cheesy!
So it looks like I’ve been given a reprieve for this week, although I’m not going to really be able to take advantage of it. I have a couple of fancy pants dinners to attend this week, receptions and lunches and general running my ass off in fancy outfits, smiling politely and being my sunny self.
I just can’t wait for this week to be over as next week I’m off to Halifax! WHEEEEEEEEE!