A tale as old as fire
We’ve been bad lately. Few of our meals have been home cooked the last few weeks. It begs the question: has my mood driven our dinner selection, was it the other way around, or were we involved in a tragic dinner-depression feedback loop?
Begging or not, that’s not really why I’m writing. I’m writing because we didn’t have salsa.
“Holy hot sauce Batman!”
The thing is, I was ready to bust out of my funk. I was ready to go toe to toe with the blue mood. I was going to make us some dinner, everyone was going to sit down around our new/old table, and they were going to love it – and me.
I oiled up my pan, got ready to chop an onion, and let my mouth water at the thought of the southwestern dish I was ready to whip up.
It’s the story of my life.