I can probably count on my fingers the number of times in the past four and some odd years that Matt has gotten out of bed before me. I mean, gotten out of bed in earnest, like Started the Day, not gotten out of bed like, got up to go to the bathroom. Because I will win that contest every time. Anyway, Saturday night, things were rough and I decided to let myself sleep in on Sunday. I amazed myself by sleeping in until almost 9, and by getting out of bed after Matt did. Granted, it was like 45 seconds and I immediately started yelling “I slept in until 9!” But whatever. It was a nice start to a day that turned out to be pretty great. For one thing, I got a lot done. For another, I went to the gym and actually worked out at a decent intensity level. I almost cried, right there on the treadmill, when I realized I could break into a jog without passing out. But, I didn’t want to be That Girl. The Gym Crier.
Anyway, I rode the wave of goodness and came home and made a complicated meal for dinner. I was quite proud of myself for this one. It involved borrowing a pan and pie weights. Did you know there were weights for pies? I did not.
So here’s an Ellie Krieger-inspired zucchini and tomato tart:
It was supposed to be a ratatouille tart, but since the eggplant went so disastrously wrong on Saturday, I decided to double the zucchini instead. I loved it. I thought it tasted like pizza. Matt also loved it. He thought it tasted like not pizza. Whatever, Matt.
Here’s my slice with a quick spinach and salmon salad with a sweet lemon vinaigrette. Look how fancy I’ve become. From Lean Cuisines to Lemon Vinaigrette: The See Food Story.
On a monkey’s face.
The night went downhill as I completely freaked out about our taxes. Yes, on April 13. Next year, I will freak out in, like March. That will be better.
Today, I went to the pulmonologist to get some additional tests done to investigate my mysterious breathing problems. Luckily, I wasted an hour of my life waiting for a doctor who never came to see me because he got an emergency call from the ICU. Now I have to go back on Friday and deal with the receptionist again. She was almost comically rude, and when she slammed the window shut IN MY FACE, I heard her start a very serious conversation with a co-worker that went like this:
Receptionist: Okay. I’ve got, like, twenty dollars in my savings account. Should I waste it on eyebrow rings?
She was pregnant, so I’m really looking forward to working with her child someday.
Anyway, after that, I needed to decompress, so Matt and I took an awesome walk around the park, to the library, through the mall, to Best Buy and the grocery store and then home. After battling the nasty air (apparently this is the time of year when people burn the prairie and things), I was too tired to make dinner. Matt got a pizza and I decided to eat some leftovers. I also discovered the magical salad bar at the grocery store right behind us. So here was my dinner: magical salad, tart slice and brussels sprouts. Since woman cannot live by vegetables and cornmeal alone, I also almost hurt myself racing to the kitchen when I remembered that I just bought raw cashews.
And then I finished our taxes. Yay. And I’ve been trying, in vain, to pay the state of North Carolina for the last half hour. Now I think I’ll celebrate taxes being done with something exciting like a recently expired Fage. It just feels right.
The week is looking up, as I’m done with the chapter, done with taxes, and only working 2 and a half more days. My mom is coming on Thursday night to visit us, so I’m leaving work early to go to Kansas City to pick her up. She has already refused to eat bulgur but WHAT IF SHE DOESN’T KNOW???