I am not a morning person. This plan has given me the energy to wake up in the morning without going back to sleep immediately. That's great...and also not applicable the morning after I got home at 1am. Shit ain't cute.
I burst through the bedroom door like a sitcom neighbor, and stumbled over to where my husband sat peacefully. He had the complacent look of someone who isn't chained to the kitchen because she didn't share the recipe list with anyone since WHY WOULD SHE NEED HELP SHE CAN TOTALLY DO THIS HERSELF AWESOME OK GREAT THEN. He sipped his coffee and smiled at me. I promptly fell asleep on him in his chair.
I startled awake, blinked at him, and he asked what he should do. I stammered out something about how his lunch was packed because it was last night's dinner and I have to scramble eggs and eggs and more eggs also eggs. He sent me back to bed.
I got about 45 more minutes of sleep before the bird woke up, and it was bliss. I got us both out the door, dropped her off at school, and then sat back down at the coffee shop to work. See, I made a habit of doing my work at the coffee shop so I wouldn't be tempted to nap. Did I mention I love sleep? Even with all this new energy, I could still talk myself into napping if I worked from home. I don't even sit in the comfy chairs at the coffee shop, lest they lure me into the sweet sleep reserved for the elderly in public spaces.
NO! NOT THE COMFY CHAIR!
We were having some people over to look at the furnace that day, so I knew I had to head home and cook everything for the last two days of guidance. See, after Day 7, the Whole30 throws you into the cold world and you must navigate not eating delicious bread ALL BY YOURSELF. I have a feeling I'm just gonna eat eggs and Rx Bars, get scurvy, and die.
First I put together some salmon cakes, which means draining a can of salmon - something I snickered at it my mom's pantry and now recognize as expensive and valuable - gagging at the skin in it and crushing all the little bones between my fingers and giggling. I threw them in the oven. I set to browning a pork...butt? Shoulder? Face? Guys, I'm not good with meat. A slab. I put a slab of pork into my dutch oven to sear after I melted a sufficient amount of fat first. Cause that's what this thing is. Eating fat and never leaving the kitchen. Do I write? Do I act? I do not. I cook things and eat fat. That is what I do now.
Creative impulses and feelings are squashed and shredded like so many sweet potatoes.
While that happened, I went about making more mayo. YES I APPARENTLY NEEDED MORE. I wasn't going to make the same mistake as before, so I used avocado oil. It was astoundingly delicious. Then the furnace dude shamed me for the amount of dust and cat hair in front of the furnace, so I ate all the mayonnaise in front of him while never breaking eye contact. He brought it on himself.
What's wrong? Where are you going? ARE YOU GOING TO GET MORE MAYO?
I was super happy about having more mayo, and simultaneously sad about not having a sandwich to put it on. However, emotions aren't allowed on the Whole30 because you have work to do, so I quickly stifled then and mixed something. I put the pork shoulderbuttrumproastthingy into the oven with the lid on for carnitas, took the salmon cakes out, and was then ordered to make more mayo from this batch. It wasn't fatty enough, see, so I had to add an entire avocado to it.
Next up on "Fattest Kitchen," A Heartbeat: Who Needs It?
The next HVAC worker didn't shame me at all, so I refrained from chugging the batch. But barely. I then thought I would get wayyyy ahead of the game for a future dinner and spiralize some zucchini on the verge of going bad and looking like a penis in cold water, but it turns out I needed that for lunch the next day. The Whole30 sees you making plans, and it mocks you. Also, I will call these "spiralized zucchini". I will call them "zucchini noodles." I will not call them "zoodles," because that's fucking stupid.
Strips of Not Noodles. Saved from Withered Member Status. Just...not Zoodles.
In case my shriveled penis metaphor wasn't enough, I also had to make something called "sunshine sauce." I am a ten year old boy. I will never change.
I checked on the carnitas, taking the lid off and turning the...meat...over. I forgot to put the lid back on for the last half hour of cooking. Plus side, cracklins. Minus side:
OH NOES.
I cursed a lot, and threw some sweet potatoes in to roast. See, you don't get any goddamned tortillas for your carnitas, so you're supposed to stuff them into a sweet potato and cover them with avocado mayo. If that didn't sound so fucking delicious, I'd be really mad.
Shredded perfectly after I ate all the crispy parts with my bare hands.
I was finally able to sit down to some late lunch. Of course, I had rehearsal that night, so I wouldn't be able to eat any of the delicious dinner I prepared. I threw a shitton of snacks into my bag so I could meet the whole cast of T. at ATC and be The Understudy Who Is Always Talking About What She Eats. I bet they'll love me. Who wouldn't love that? I MEAN EVERYONE LOVES THAT RIGHT? At least I ate this first.
What a lovely...yellow...orange...lunch. (It was actually delicious. I can't photograph food, y'all.)
Rehearsal was inspiring, and the last thing I wanted to do was cook when I got home. Soooo I didn't. The next morning, I got us all packed up with these salmon cakes on top of...zucchini noodles...topped with sunshine sauce. That's basically peanut sauce made with sun butter. My husband and I shoved this deliciousness into our faces while we waited to go upstairs and talk to a nurse about my upcoming knee replacement surgery. Nothing like eating before they talk about slicing you open and putting metal in you. Then they handed me a giant bag of drugs, wished me luck, and kicked me out the door. This surgery is the reason I'm on this craziness, and this appointment drove the point home. Mainly, it reminded me that I'm gonna need an extra freezer for make ahead meals. I won't be able to cook on Oxy and Norco. Or...WILL I?
I picked the bird up from school, and took her to the family party they were having in the classroom. This party involved her making crafts and me watching them all eat pizza, pretending I didn't care. Really. It was great.
Once home, I made dinner for the adults, set breakfast up (chocolate chia seed pudding...we'll talk about that later) for the morning, and went to bed. When we woke up in the morning, we'd be on our own. No 7 Day plan to guide us. No step by step. It was me, my list planning, a calendar app, and a LOT of links to recipes so my husband can cook this too.
We're in it now. We've been set loose upon the kitchen.