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Every Month is March
Mar. 4th, 2021 08:20 pmAnother week at work.
Another weekend spent cooking and cleaning.
Purgatory ain't so bad, I guess.
Jameson has gigs every night this week, or rather rehearsals for a local performance of Sister Act.
I'm excited and happy for him, hoping that this breaks up the covid routine for him a bit and at least gets him out of the house and around some friends.
I've also got to admit, the alone time is nice. A lot of times when we're home together in the evenings, we watch TV together or do a puzzle, but otherwise default to playing on our phones or doing our own solitary activities.
I do enjoy this, but also it's nice to have a little time in the evenings by myself. Not that I do anything different...if anything I just clean extra because I can do it knowing I'm not bothering him, and I watch more anime because that's my thing and not his.
It makes me sad, though. On the circus, we did all kinds of fun stuff together.
I want to take him on a vacation. I want to take him away from all of the craziness, and depression, and sadness that swirl around us.
But I can't. I can't give him what he wants. And that makes me deeply sad.
At some point, something will change. Some element of our lives will shift, and make things better, or worse.
I wonder what that will be, and when it will happen.
In the meantime: purgatory.
So as you can guess, work was work. I worked all week, came home, ate, practiced steno, slept. Wash rinse repeat.
I seem to be making zero progress in steno, and it's depressing.
I could spend hours and hours practicing steno. As it is, I'm doing at least 5-8 hours per week. They want ten, so I really need to fit in more. But even so, I want this to be a job, not my whole goddamned life. Wendesday and/or Thursday are my only days to clean and cook, to garden, to have even a moment to do what I want to do instead of what I have to do. Do I really have to sacrifice that as well?
Trying not to think about it.
I ended the week feeling deeply exhausted and unmotivated. I slept in pretty late on Wednesday morning, finally dragging myself out of bed when it became clear that Jameson was about to get up. I started right away on making a pork shoulder roast because I knew it would take several hours, and it did. It had been curing overnight in salt, sugar, herbs, and spices. I rinsed all that off and roasted it in the oven along with some garlic bulbs, then after it cooled rubbed it down with the soft roasted garlic, honey, and rosemary. Back in the oven for 15 minutes until the coating caramelized.
When it had cooled I sliced it open and stored it in the fridge. Supposedly it's better on the second day. Gonna make some pork broccoli rabe provolone sandwiches with it.
( Read more... )
Another weekend spent cooking and cleaning.
Purgatory ain't so bad, I guess.
Jameson has gigs every night this week, or rather rehearsals for a local performance of Sister Act.
I'm excited and happy for him, hoping that this breaks up the covid routine for him a bit and at least gets him out of the house and around some friends.
I've also got to admit, the alone time is nice. A lot of times when we're home together in the evenings, we watch TV together or do a puzzle, but otherwise default to playing on our phones or doing our own solitary activities.
I do enjoy this, but also it's nice to have a little time in the evenings by myself. Not that I do anything different...if anything I just clean extra because I can do it knowing I'm not bothering him, and I watch more anime because that's my thing and not his.
It makes me sad, though. On the circus, we did all kinds of fun stuff together.
I want to take him on a vacation. I want to take him away from all of the craziness, and depression, and sadness that swirl around us.
But I can't. I can't give him what he wants. And that makes me deeply sad.
At some point, something will change. Some element of our lives will shift, and make things better, or worse.
I wonder what that will be, and when it will happen.
In the meantime: purgatory.
So as you can guess, work was work. I worked all week, came home, ate, practiced steno, slept. Wash rinse repeat.
I seem to be making zero progress in steno, and it's depressing.
I could spend hours and hours practicing steno. As it is, I'm doing at least 5-8 hours per week. They want ten, so I really need to fit in more. But even so, I want this to be a job, not my whole goddamned life. Wendesday and/or Thursday are my only days to clean and cook, to garden, to have even a moment to do what I want to do instead of what I have to do. Do I really have to sacrifice that as well?
Trying not to think about it.
I ended the week feeling deeply exhausted and unmotivated. I slept in pretty late on Wednesday morning, finally dragging myself out of bed when it became clear that Jameson was about to get up. I started right away on making a pork shoulder roast because I knew it would take several hours, and it did. It had been curing overnight in salt, sugar, herbs, and spices. I rinsed all that off and roasted it in the oven along with some garlic bulbs, then after it cooled rubbed it down with the soft roasted garlic, honey, and rosemary. Back in the oven for 15 minutes until the coating caramelized.
When it had cooled I sliced it open and stored it in the fridge. Supposedly it's better on the second day. Gonna make some pork broccoli rabe provolone sandwiches with it.
( Read more... )
