Working until six is TOTALLY SCREWING WITH ME. Tonight, after work, we went to get groceries and to pick up the new Portishead album and by the time we got home, unloaded the groceries and got dinner started, it was almost 8. What nonsense is that? I barely had time to watch Miss Rap Supreme (don’t worry, I still managed to do it; good thing, too, because Ghostface Killah was on there, and he hilariously didn’t seem to understand where he has or why he was there). Anyway, I don’t know how long this new schedule will last. Definitely through this week, though, because I need my Friday afternoon free to take a nap and enjoy a matinee of Iron Man without guilt.
Anyway, since we had to get groceries and time was limited, I made a quick dinner. Quesadillas, quinoa, and a black bean and corn salad recipe that I got from the vegan cookbook Matt picked up for me last week.
God, that picture is kind of awful. Sorry. Blogging is hard.
I also ate an insane amount of granola for the third day in a row. And by insane, I mean, I’m sick right now. We went to Lawrence again on Sunday while our bathroom situation was being dealt with, and I wanted to get like, I don’t know, a cup or so of Wheatfields’ granola, which is so good that it has to be made with sugar and oil and other things that taste good but are not good for those of us with delicate constitutions. But they only sell it by the pound, and somehow, standing there in front of the register, I decided that I Could Handle It, so I came home with an entire pound of it (well, not all the way home). I’m not going to take a picture of it. The pain is too fresh.
I’m going to let Beth Gibbons lull me to sleep now.