malazy

Ugh. I am so freaking tired.

All I want to do is sleep. It's never been easier for me to fall asleep, which makes it even more tempting to just stay home and stay horizontal on the couch, fading in and out as needed. Frequent trips to the kitchen for blackberry cobbler (from scratch!) would also be nice. I made it yesterday on a whim, which turned out to be a very expensive whim. Did you know fresh blackberries cost almost $4 for a little container? I spent nearly $15 on just blackberries alone, and I'm pretty sure I could've just gone to the bakery section and gotten like FIVE fucking cobblers for that. Sure, sense of accomplishment and blahblah. Whatever. I ripped myself off. But now I know how to make cobbler!

I really want to start cooking more. We've been stuck in a food rut, getting the same things at the store every time we go. Do you do that? How adventurous are you in the kitchen? I want to be adventurous. I really like cooking, but I'm lacking motivation. I've even started collecting recipes that I want to try. What I lack, as usual, is follow-through. I can't fucking stick the landing!

(Sorry, I was watching gymnastics a few days ago. They were talking about the next summer Olympics! Squee!)

When I'm all, like, mommy to a toddler who is no longer attached to my breasticles (so mature!)I want to have menus planned out so that cooking and shopping isn't stressful. I already hate grocery shopping, in fact I think I'm going to talk to Micah about him being the permanent grocery shopper and me the permanent laundress. Even though laundry takes twice as long and folding makes me sweaty and squirmy, I absolutely hate the grocery store. Consequently, food rut, because I go for what's familiar so I can get out of there faster. Micah actually takes his time and peruses the fucking place. I must say, he always comes back with a few fun surprises that I never would have picked up. He's good.

God, have I really resorted to expounding on our grocery habits? If you could even call it expounding. More like spewing.

I'm bored. I want the baby to come, yet I'm still eager to gulp up all the decadent alone time I can get, eating warm cobbler with vanilla ice cream and watching Real Sex reruns. I can't stand sitting at work, browsing blogs that don't get updated often enough and dreading having to actually answer the phone. Maybe I'm nesting, or something? We're finally settled into the apartment, and though it's smaller and less charming, I love it. I just want to be here, with Micah and Avery, eating $15 cobbler, debating baby names, and watching Big Brother 8.

Have I mentioned the cobbler? Oh. I'd offer you some, but...it's expensive. (Memo to self: Purchase frozen berries next time, you fucking idiot.)