Last night was exactly the kind of relaxing Friday night I needed.
PhillyGuy and I got the chance to hit the gym together for the first time in a couple of weeks. I went with the intent of doing 25 minutes on the bike, followed by P90X shoulders/biceps/triceps. Except that, once I wrapped up my cardio, no fewer than FIVE GUYS were scattered in front of all of the dumbbells, taking up every piece of the lifting area. I killed a few minutes BSing with PhillyGuy, who was still on his bike, but no dice -- no one was moving.
I was hungry, I was tired...I generally did NOT feel like sitting on my butt for an indefinite amount of time waiting for random dudes to finish their workouts and free up some space. So, I did the logical thing: packed up and headed back home.
PhillyGuy and I ended up getting Chinese takeout. I got my usual: steamed shrimp and mixed veggies, no sauce, brown rice, with copious amounts of soy sauce and fish sauce.
Wait...what? WHITE RICE? What IS this crap? My favorite husband forgot to specify the type of rice that I wanted, and I'm assuming they default to white. It was the first time I'd had white rice in years...and I was NOT impressed. No amount of fish sauce and soy sauce could make that tasty. Blech -- not for me. So, I just did the reasonable thing, and ate all of the veggies and shrimp instead. I probably had about 1/4 cup of rice altogether -- just so not worth it.
This morning, even though poor PhillyGuy had to run off to an all-day seminar, I decided I still wanted to make eggs. No idea what I had -- so I stood around in front of my fridge and pieced something together. Hmm. Baby spinach, mushrooms, feta and bacon? Um, yes please.
Two things to note about this picture:
1 - Cosmo lurking in the background, in his standard "maybe, just maybe, if I hang out here, something will come my way" spot, and
2 - the bowl of berries and yogurt, ALSO in the background.
Both of those items have a purpose.
See, while my bacon crisped up in the pan, I went outside onto the balcony to water my flowers. When I came back in, I noticed a tiny bit of smoke coming from the pan. Odd, I thought, since I didn't have the heat up that high -- but I pulled the bacon out and set it aside to drain, hoping that it was just crispy.
Um, not so much. It was DEFINITELY burnt. And do you know what happens when you cook mushrooms and spinach in a pan that just had bacon burning in it? Even if you wipe out all of the grease?
If your answer was "the other veggies will taste exactly like burnt bacon," you are correct. And for the record? Burnt bacon is NOT tasty. At all. I didn't want to waste my food, so I gave it a shot. I covered it up with a ton of mustard, hoping that it would disguise the burnt butt taste...not so much.
I had suspected it would go that route...hence the "back-up breakfast" of berries and yogurt back there behind the eggs. But don't worry, SOME household residents don't mind the taste of burnt bacon:
My plans for the day involve hitting the gym and the dog park, and doing some serious deep cleaning of this house. When you have two dogs and hardwood floors and don't stay on top of things, you end up with tumbleweeds of dog fur...not really a way to live. Gah.