My ass is so damn happy right now. I finally quit my tolling 9 to 5! Not only was I about to have a serious whack attack, but my lack of ability to play in my kitchen was slowly killing my spirits. But I'm back with a vengeance! I didn't ever really stop cooking, but I usually plan and execute about 3 recipes a week. I was down to 3 a month. Now I can finally sit back, relax and take a deep breath of the smoggy LA air. Ahh, like heaven. Filthy, filthy heaven.
Of course, I do need to work. I need a steady income. As much as I love living the life of a freelance delinquent, it just doesn't pay the damn bills. But if I am going to take precious time away from tinkering about in my kitchen laboratory, I want it to be because I'm cooking somewhere else...not sitting at a desk like a robot on crack. I have to admit, working that job really made me question my genetic make-up. Is it possible that some of us just aren't wired to spend 9 hours a day toiling away in a cubicle? Was I just born with Stoner DNA? I am inclined to believe that we've been conditioned to think that such behavior is normal, but in my reality, it's just damn near impossible. Or maybe I'm just a spoiled little brat.
Regardless, the taste of freedom is a sweet one. I'm hawking Craigslist again for the next good opportunity, but I'm not going to lay the pressure on myself until my bank account dwindles to the point of discomfort. I'll spend my days doing some serious catch-up on things like planning our wedding, working through my stack of written recipes and renewing my medical marijuana license. You know, the important stuff. Plus, we're throwing a "Blow Me: I'm Single (Or Hate Valentines Day) Bash, so I've got a bit of party preparing that needs tended to.
Oh, and thank you for all your recipe suggestions! Keep em coming. I loved what you guys threw at me. Throw harder.
No recipe to go along with these lovely photos, but it is a recipe written off a suggestion for some vegan fried chicken. Oh, and here's a close up of that hot potato salad: