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Y'know when you send someone an email that you really, really want an answer to, and from the minute you send it you keep obsessively checking your inbox to see if you've received a reply?
I hate that. And I've been doing it all day. Not good.
Feeling a teensy bit better today. Might have something to do with the fact that, apart from a brief breastaurant visit at 5 a.m., Will and I both slept until 9 a.m. today. I needed that. Spent most of his nap just staring into space, trying to motivate myself into doing something--ANYthing. My house is a mess. I have about seven loads of laundry waiting to be done on the bathroom floor. My sheets haven't been changed in much longer than I am willing to admit. Dinner for tonight is in a state of half-prepped. And yet--I sit. And now he's waking up.
I guess we'll be doing laundry and making cider-roasted chicken together. That ought to be interesting...
Fall has brought out in me a desire to cook. Last Sunday, we had cranberry pork roast, a new recipe. It was absolutely delicious, and incredibly easy. Last night, it was eggplant lasagna again, in Erica's honor. The cider-roasted chicken is another new recipe pulled from this month's issue of Cooking Light. It's been brining in a salt water and cider mixture all night. I'll let you know tomorrow if it was worth it.
This weekend, I may try pot roast for the first time. Pot roast and creme brulee (I need to break in that kitchen torch I got for my birthday after months of whining that I wanted one SOME time) on Sunday night. Don't you wish you were coming to my house?
I need to throw in at least ONE load before the Beast gets up. Have to make sure his Red Sox shirt is clean for tomorrow. Wouldn't want to break the streak, now would we?
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