The Week of Exhausted

This makes me happy

Yesterday, I went to the super Wal-mart TWICE.

I hadn’t done any of the shopping for my mom’s birthday meals and cake or Thanksgiving. The first trip only took two hours. I decided after I got home that I needed to make green bean casserole Thursday, and I desperately needed couscous. I’ve turned into that person.

Today I made my first ever cake from scratch. I have a talent for baking, and, apparently, not many people bake anymore, so I bake for gifts. I know, I know. It just sounds like I am being cheap as hell, which is sorta true, but I do enjoy making things by hand for people I care about. Plus, I think it is possible to woo people with homemade bread. So, yeah, I made carrot cake, and it was good.

Thursday, for the second year, I’m making Thanksgiving. It is just for my parents and I, but I want to do something special. I always find it a little sad to let a holiday pass because it feels like too much work to do something special. I understand money or time constraints, but I have time. It is exhausting making the food, and people think I’m crazy for doing it, but I like making something special for my family.

I have a special situation. I have the time and energy. I don’t judge people who can’t. I also have this strange ideal of learning how to do and make things with my hands. My stuffing will come from a box, and my cranberries from a can, and I bought all of my other ingredients at the store. I can’t pretend I’m frying onions I grew myself or green beans that came from my garden, but a little stupid hippie part of me wishes I could. I think it is a strange romantic over idealism, but I like the idea of having basic skills to feed myself. I don’t have them, though, and if I ever had to butcher my own animals, I would forgo meat. Guts are gross. I don’t even pretend on that one. I’m a wuss.

It’s 1:15 am, and I’m rambling.

I hope people find a piece of wonderful Thursday, and, well every day. Maybe trying to find things to be happy and grateful for everyday isn’t a bad idea, even if you do fail more than you succeed.

Oh my god, I am such a damn hippie. I’m stopping now.