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Links LUPEC |
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I am sloooowly crossing things off my "have to do before Sunday" list. It's good to be productive, but I wish I could learn to develop a plan and stick to it. I usually work in a constant state of flux, which results in the ever popular last minute crush. That worked in high school, and college, and, to be honest, during most of my professional life, but it's not a particularly healthy way to get things accomplished. Right now, though, I think I am going to go ahead with the dreaded writing project instead of the dreaded empanada project. I'll plan to knock out the empanadas tomorrow afternoon, between breakfast and the butch-femme party. And if I'm terribly diligent, I might get some laundry in there too. But I doubt it. So, I have to write up and lay out little bio and recipe cards for our honored chefs, for LUPEC to hand out at this Sunday's Women's History Theme Brunch. I am REALLY EXCITED about the project, and the recipes, and the chance to honor these ladies. But I am for some reason LOATHE to start doing this writing and layout. I don't know why. It has been at the top of the list for a week now and keeps getting pushed further down. We've got the menu nailed down, and it is going to be incredibly delicious, varied, and exciting. I just can't bring myself to start writing. Sigh. I went so far in my procrastination that I baked a batch of peanut butter cookies. I used the Joy Of Cooking recipe, which kinda sucks. Part of the problem, I'm sure, is that I didn't have any brown sugar so I subbed raw sugar for both the brown and the white. Part of the problem was probably the fact that they described the cookies as "crumbly", and that is not how I like my peanut butter cookies. I like them oily and sticky. But hell--procrastination cookies are delicious no matter what. I've told several people about my reversal of the house buying decision, and they all agreed that it is for the best. I appreciate everyone's support, but it made me feel a little like I felt when I broke up with my boyfriend. Suddenly, everyone told me what a jerk he was. Now, had they told me what a jerk he was when I was dating him I might not have listened, but I might have. Similarly, had everyone told me when I was all house crazy that they were worried about the neighborhood and the finances and the SIZE--would it have made a difference? Hard to say. Honesty in friendships is a difficult thing. It's of course very hard to tell a friend you love and respect that you don't think they're doing the right thing. But if you can't count on the friends you love and respect, who can you count on? It's a quandry. And I am not faulting my friends---I'm sure I have done the exact same withold of information dance with all of them. I suppose had someone said "You don't really want to buy a big house! You hate to clean!" I would have felt like they were trying to quash my dreams of turning into a remarkably fine tuned domestic machine overnight. I'm glad, I guess, that I came to my senses all by myself. Now it's back to dreaming of the perfect little one bedroom apartment with a big kitchen and patio. Dream with me, won't you. And now, me and Me'shell Ndegeocello are going to go and look through the Frankferd Farms catalog. My last oasis of procrastination before the writing begins. |
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