Miss Carol’s gone again tonight, attending another Ladies Night Out. The limo guy in the yellow corvette with the mirrored aviator shades that Miss Carol says picks up all the ladies for Ladies Night Out came by about an hour ago.
Which means it’s just me and Cutter and Tug tonight.
And that’s cool. I’m a big boy, I can take care of myself and the boys, right? Right. But then there’s stuff that sometimes slips in under the radar, under the shit I’m ready and willing to deal with. Stuff that always seems to surprise me.
umm. Like dinner?
I suck at cooking. Miss Carol is an amazing chef, and she does it for fun. She plates food for dinner that’s just incredible. I have customers that want to know what I had for my leftover lunch ’cause they’re getting a foodie woodie just listening to me.
So you’d think it’d rub off. At least a little. But it doesn’t.
And to make my whining worse-
Ever have one of those days? Doesn’t matter if it’s about food, or your truck breaking down, or your dogs pooping on the carpet while they wait anxiously for you to get home, or having family you don’t like coming to live with you.
One of those days that NOTHIN’S ever gonna go right.
I’m busily having one today. I walked Cutter and Tug and we shared an apple and Cutter barked and yelped the whole time and then I went to work. When I came home for lunch I was like, cool, leftover steak.
I don’t know if I’d originally overcooked it or if the microwave did it for me, but it was fucking awful. I threw it away and heated up some broccoli. Worst shit I’ve ever eaten-dry, grainy, and smelly. So I gave up and went back to work thinking maybe my Huevos Rorios for dinner would save the day.
Pinto beans and fried eggs. Can’t fuck that up, right?
Oh yeah baby, you can, and it’s easier than you’d ever think.
I can’t wait for Miss Carol to get home and save me from myself.
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