A Rough Night In My Head

Morning earworm: Your Mama Don't Dance, Loggins & Messina. From the show last weekend.




Yesterday ended up being pretty much a bust. Coffee, meds, and lying on the floor provided no relief until mid-afternoon. Did get most of the shopping done, with only a few items remaining to be secured this morning, probably as soon as I finish typing this. Just like my other holiday shopping - a surgical strike; get in early, secure the merch, and get out quickly. Pay no attention to the funny looks one gets from buying beer at 7:30 in the morning.

I had a truly bizarre nightmare last night, of the classic horror movie variety. This doesn't happen often, and leads to much pondering on the whole process. In my dreams, at least, I often find that things which would normally make no sense at all do; mostly in context, as it usually involves a rather long and elaborate backstory, which for some odd reason I know at the time, like a sort of bulk-downloaded footnote. Last night, for example, when the red-hooded figure appeared behind me in the darkened house, it was not merely the startle which caused the panic, but knowing who / what it was, in vivid detail. Definitely a Blair Witch moment, one of those where you lie awake for some time after, contemplating the seeming reality of the incident, and really not wanting to get up and go to the bathroom - one of those rare times when living in so secluded an area isn't quite as idyllic as it normally is.

No matter - a busy day ahead in the kitchen. Today: making more sausage, and various breads. Need to get the cornbread starter going, make at least the dough for the rolls, and probably some pizza crust while I'm at it for tonight. It seems like coming up with something the few days before the big meal is the most difficult part. I was completely at a loss yesterday, contemplating going out for dinner, before inspiration hit and I ended up inventing the Cordon Bleu Chimichanga - leftover chicken breast diced up with some ham and cheese filling, fried in a tortilla. A keeper, surprisingly, for something literally thrown together nearly at random. Sometimes you just get lucky :D

Duration is subjective.