(Let me start by saying the illness while powerful seems to also have been swift. I just might make it after all. Although, I’m quite miffed that I had to call in today - I was on a 5 month not-that-sick streak!)
Anyway, the Catrow family has decided to stop eating any meat that isn’t certified as organic and free of antibiotics with the exception of the traditional Valentine’s Day meal provided by Lee’s Famous Recipe Chicken - you can’t monkey with tradition, guys.
This decision will basically make us vegetarians everywhere but our own home. We’ll still buy meat, but only from places where we know what we’re getting (and what the animals got while being raised).
While I’m excited about the positive impact this will have on our health, I must say that there a few items that will be sorely missed. Let us honor our fallen brothers…
Chicken burritos from Mexico and El Paso
Lean Cuisine’s chicken primavera
Arby’s roast beef sandwiches
Chic-Fil-A (TEARS, OH, THE TEARS!)
Junior bacon cheeseburgers from Wendy’s
Club sandwiches from anywhere, really
Ham biscuits (I might as well just not go to anymore family functions.)
#9 meal from McDonald’s
Chicken and vegetables in brown sauce from Ginger
If I were more technologically savvy, you would have heard Green Day’s Time of Your Life in the background. And the sound of me sniffling a lot.
There is much moaning, whining, and lying around in my own filth happening over here. Will write soon.
(v.1 found here)
I haven’t had caffeine for almost 9 days. I only had one headache during the entire withdraw process - many yawns, but just one headache.
I have an insatiable desire for water at all times now.
I’m in love with Millionaire Matchmaker, but I hate the matchmaker and the entire process disgusts me.
I’m currently reading Slaughterhouse Five. I know I should love it, but I kind of don’t.
The 100 calorie pretzel packets stocked in my office kitchen are one of the highlights of my day.
I have wanted to go to bed at 8:30 every night for the last three days.
The joy I get from eating Cinnamon Toast Crunch out of my Urban Outfitters bowls is somewhat irrational.
Your turn. Spill it…
My gym has just added this stunning piece of equipment to its fitness offerings:
Meet the Nautilus TreadClimber. It’s like a combination treadmill/stair climber and claims to give you a “runner’s workout at a walker’s pace.” Plus, if you’re clumsy like me, the climbing action throws you slightly off balance and you constantly have to use your abdominal muscles to correct your positioning and not fall on your face.
Photographic wonder boy Jake Lyell has posted his photo essay on his experiences in Kenya. Read it now and get a bit of perspective.
Comments in response to this post, brought my attention to Tater Mitts. Two thoughts come to my mind when I saw this web site and its accompanying video:
1. Peeling potatoes is not THAT hard.
2. This product is clearly a response to a first world problem. You go ahead and tell those villagers in Africa that you couldn’t help them build a well because you needed to peel a potato in eight seconds.
Plus, it looks like the gloves have barnacles on them. Personally, I want nothing to do with barnacles period, let alone in the vicinity of my food.
Friday: Dealt with strengthening cold symptoms throughout the day. Came home for a big glass of orange juice and a nap. Homemade pizzas and Harold and Maude. To bed early.
Saturday: Slept in to continue fighting off cold. To lunch with Stephanie, Day, and Kate. Home for another snot-filled nap. Up for a whiny phone call with Ross. Back to bed for another brief nap. Made dinner with Ross, MattWhite, and Nate. To bed late.
Sunday: Up to feed and play with the dogs. Puttering before going to the grocery store. Off to church. Dinner. Various things before bed. Think the cold is on its way out.
Have a great week!
This is what happens when I’m asked to peel the potatoes.
In an effort to curb power struggles, we make it a point to emphasize the fact that Shooter is the alpha dog in our house. He’s fed first, let out first, and while Zapp is relegated to sleeping on the floor, Shooter is often invited up on the couch to snuggle with us. But she does ok:
Here she is in her latest napping spot: the 3 inches between the ottoman and the couch. It works especially well for her since she loves wrapping herself up in blankets.
I’ve been watching the disaster that is Real World/Road Rules Challenge: The Gauntlet III and I’ve spent the last 15 minutes saying “Who the hell is that? And why are they so LOUD?”
Sigh.
