What’s good, Hellcats?
Me, I’m just hanging out, doing a load of laundry, cleaning up a bit. I also hung a poster I’ve been meaning to hang, and attempted to make some prints at Walgreens but forgot to bring my phone cord. The poster is a painting by Ed Paschke called Mid American that Megan got me as a justbecause gift. I hung it above my bed.
I stopped at the grocery store on the way home from work and picked up some veggies to stir fry, and I ate them in conjunction with the rest of the chicken breast I didn’t use making chicken tacos on Sunday. I stir fried the veggies (a green pepper, an orange pepper, about seven cloves of garlic, a small sweet onion, and a bundle of asparagus) with a couple strips of peppered turkey bacon. I dredged the chicken with allpurpose cooking flour and seasoning salt and cooked it in a separate pan, which Megan has instructed me to do from now on. In a medium sauce pan I boiled a Far East brand rice pilaf and herb blend. I made a bed of the rice pilaf on my plate and airdropped the veggies, bacon, and chicken on top, then sprinkled on feta cheese and firehosed the whole ensemble with Sriracha. I ate all this while listening to Bon Iver’s selftitled album play over a muted NBA game and drinking a Negro Modelo beer in the Bulls pint glass that Joe graciously stole for me from a bar as a housewarming present when he was drunk. After that I was still hungry so I ate some blue corn tortilla chips, plain, off a napkin.
I just checked on the laundry and, though the laundering cycle had concluded, my clothes were still wet. Warm, but wet. Knowing this outcome was a possibility, I’d arrived armed with four new quarters in my back pocket that I adroitly slipped into the drier. “Here we go again,” I was overheard muttering to myself.