So I made this chicken last week, and it was very good, so I made it again last night. One pound of chicken makes about three servings, which are eaten only by me, since the Hubs does the vegan thing, and there's nobody here but us ... hehe.
I was on the way to Kohl's this morning, because I can go to Kohl's at 8 am, and I had a $10 off coupon, so I was off on the adventure to buy a bra. Hot times for me. And on the way there, I'm thinking that I don't so much want to eat the chicken every night for three days, and I can never freeze it well in ziplocs, and then I think, Hot damn, I'm gonna get me one of them freezer-sucker-sealer thingies. So I did. (Also a bra.)
I got a mini one, a very good price, because really, I don't cook enough for one of those $125 models. But I got it home and plugged it in and nothing happened. Since it was clearly not working, and I couldn't get the 800 number on a holiday, I took it back and exchanged it for another one.
Which did exactly the same thing: nothing. For someone who is extremely technology minded, I draw curious blanks with odd objects. This one got me because it didn't say anywhere what was supposed to happen when you plugged it in. Heat up? A light comes on? What, exactly? It said that to seal a bag, you had to press down on the corners, which I did, but nothing. But when I tried it again, pressing down the whole lid with both hands, voila. The first one probably worked, too. Don't tell a weakling to press down the corners with her fingers; it just ain't a-goin' to work. Anyway, I sealed up chicken, made more chicken and sealed it, and sauce, and all kinds of things. I love gadgets, I just love 'em.
Had a good long conversation with K before, who is still doing great over in Berlin. She sounds very happy. I'm always worried about her, and I guess there really are reasons for it, real or imagined. For one, she always shut down when she was overloaded, as a baby and a teenager, so there's always the fear that she'll do that when confronted with stress. Then she was sick for a year and half in high school, so I guess that overstimulated my fear radar. The weirdest thing, I don't know if I've ever written about this before, was that when she was about nine months old, I had a dream, a very scary dream, about her. In the dream, she was at the house where I took the kids for daycare every day, and had crawled off by herself and tried to climb up the stairs, but had fallen down them. And in the dream, I saw her lying at the bottom of the stairs with her head ... well, caved in. It was terrifying, and it has remained vivid in my memory for almost twenty years now. It left me with a real sense that disaster was going to befall her at some point in her life. I would like to think that her long illness was it, and so it already happened, all done, nothing more for me to worry about. But even so, a very hard image to shake. So every time I hear her voice and know that things are going well, I breathe another sigh of relief.
The other one, well, no such ominous premonitions, and she's always weathered a crisis really well, which is something of a family characteristic. (My father was the BEST person to call in an emergency. He must have been a damn good officer in the war.) And she's coming home two weeks from tomorrow. So, yay!
I'm so ready to go back to school tomorrow. I don't want to, but I'm ready. The website's all updated for the coming week, my lunch is packed. Hey, I even got a new bra. Woop de doo!
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I'm watching Dr. Phil
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