i'm sick she said. do you mind coming in, like, now?
inner conflict between money and a birthday boyfriend who just asked for more cuddles. oh boyfriend i love you to death but we need the monies more. so off i go, in on a day i was supposed to be out. turned out to be a profitable day, but guilt wasn't supposed to be on the menu.
yesterday we moved all my worldly possessions back to lindsay and into my parents basement. i'm trying not to think of that as moving backwards, again. ho hum deedle dumb.
but i can't forget to say that i lost the only set of keys to our car. you know whats worse then having a fight with your boyfriend? disappointing him. god i hate that. i'm almost positive some lady just picked them right off the counter at work. they were no where to be found when i finished my shift and the girl relieving me had seen them when she came in, only ten minutes before, lying right on the counter. magic? karma? fucking kleptomaniac bitch.
at least this disappointment is only costing me $120 for a new wireless entry and whatever self assurance i had left.
at least my karmas back to even.in happier new. its the presidents birthday today, so dinner is his pick. to drink we are having amaretto and cokes to shoot down the rest of the afternoon, as well as a pinot noir to open once things in the kitchen start to heat up. we've already eaten a bunch of the prosciutto and melon that i was thankful our grocery store had in stock. after i hit publish i'm going to try my hand at mussels in a white wine, shallot and butter sauce with french bread to dip. never cooked mussels, should be interesting. i was getting tips from the chef at work so fingers crossed this works. after that experiment i'm going for something a little safer, tortellini in a blue cheese cream sauce. and then if we can find the room i'm going to pan sear some fresh salmon and pair that with curry sweet potato fries tossed in honey. okay wish me luck, i'll take pictures if its a success.
ps. this spell check doesn't recognize the word prosciutto and keeps trying to tell me i'm spelling prostitute. ummmmm...'we've already eaten a bunch of the prostitute' doesn't quite have the same class.