Alter Ego

I really hope hope that if there other dimensions and universes and such, that my other self is graceful, her culinary endeavors smooth, and her joints not so arthritic.

I have been on a roll lately.  The kind where Jack rolls his eyes a lot.  Not the kind that gets admiring whistles.  I am not sure when this spree of goofiness started . . .

Last week, I was really looking forward to making some salsa.  I wanted the tang of lime and cilantro and the edge of salt and tomato.  I was geared up for it.  I had it all assembled and took the first taste test only to find it a little odd.  There was smokiness to it that wasn't right.  I went and got the cumin back out and added a little more.  It was permanently odd and no doctoring helped.  The next day when moving things in the cabinet, I discovered that the curry had been in the cumin spot.  I knew for sure that the second dose of cumin had been right because I had opened a new jar for that, but the first bit of curry meant the whole batch was just off.

There is a string of chipped and broken dishes.  I would love to blame carpal tunnel, but my family would assure you  that this is normal.  There are rummy sweaters.  I lost the bag of chicken last week and thought we were out.  Turns out it was in the wrong freezer.  There have been more drips, spills, and general mess than anyone should be capable of.

Tonight, though, was the worst.  I was frying ranch chicken and managed to knock a bowl full of raw chicken, yogurt, eggs, and milk off the counter.  It flew up, hit the floor and bounced. My leg dripped.  The counter.  The stove.  All of it was purely disgusting.  I should have just let the animals come in and enjoy the mess.  Instead,  I found a new roll of paper towels.  Ultimately, dinner was readied and consumed.  The dishes done, the floor mopped, the cook bathed.  All the mess has been erased.

Somewhere out there, there must be a me that has it together.  It is certain that this me is just a mess.  Jack did point out that I should move the red pepper away from where it sat next to the cinnamon on the counter, lest my smoothie in the morning have a little kick.