I have nothing to do right now. I'm pretty excited about that. I spent the morning cleaning, which means that I finally feel like I'm really home from our trip; then I went to Trader Joe's for book club snacks: pina coladas and fried plantains, because this month's book has a Caribbean theme.
Except TJ's didn't have pineapple juice, so they're going to be mango-passion fruit coladas. They also didn't have plantains, so I just fried up some bananas. The bananas lacked the necessary firmness, but it's still a dish made of fruit, oil and brown sugar, so it can't really taste bad, right? Right?
Yes, I'm aware that this is another Adventure In Substitutions, which have a tendency to go bad. Also, the mango-passion fruit juice is called "Heart of Darkness," which seemed appropriate for our colonial/pirate book, but perhaps it doesn't bode well for my forthcoming bar tending attempt.
I also made some bread, because what's better than a clean house that smells like bread?
But sometimes when I'm all go-go-go for a while and then things slow down for a second, I don't quite know what to do with myself. So in the midst of my morning chores, I also started to worry about maybe having a serious disease. I don't have any reason to believe I do, but I made some up. Or at least, I hope I made them up.
My sister has always been the family hypochondriac. Pretty much every time she has a lot of papers to grade, she becomes convinced she has cancer. I've always prided myself on managing stress in other ways (grouchiness, crying, obsessive-compulsive disorder), but the older we get, the more our coping mechanisms start to look alike. Thanks a lot, Cathy. At least with OCD, you get a clean house out of it.