I’m feeling really down — probably hormonal, you’re welcome — today, so I am struggling to muster the enthusiasm for a real post. Instead I’ll show you what end-of-the-week meals start to look like when you refuse to buy more groceries but only have random crap left in the fridge.
Yeah, basically it’s a couple of different vehicles for ketchup. At the top is roasted cauliflower. It started out as about a cup’s worth but shriveled down to what you see. The patties are the Chickpea Cutlets from Veganomicon. I made four total, not the double batch in the linked recipe. I’m really glad I had the foresight to cook the entire package of garbanzo beans this week instead of just the quantity I needed for that night. My lunch was boosted by a delightful coworker who brought strawberries to work, plus tortilla chips…
As a bonus, here’s what I ate for breakfast in lieu of my planned smoothie (RIP blender) the last two days:
Vegan overnight oats. Yes, they’re in a jar. That is because I transported them to work. They are also really unphotogenic but actually pretty tasty. The mix contains oats, almond milk, vanilla, cinnamon, peanut butter, and banana. I add the last two ingredients in the morning, not during the soaking. Incidentally, this is what a banana that looked normal-ish before you packed it looks like after a ride using the Los Angeles public transportation system:
On the realsies, I’m currently fighting with myself to admit I’m depressed. ‘Cause I’m totally not. It’s normal to cry almost every day and have no desire to see the sun and get my feelings hurt when someone somewhere in the world has a conversation and does not go out of their way to include me in it, especially when I make it clear that I’m antisocial and don’t like to be bothered. Right? Some days are bigger struggles than others. Some are downright horrid, but plenty are happy and carefree. I’m still struggling to find the good, think of things that would cheer me up, but too often it leads to resentment. While I welcome suggestions, so many of them are not realistic. “Get a massage!” “Treat yourself to a pedicure!” “Take a weekend away!” “Go out for some retail therapy!” I would so love to do any or all of these things, but they all cost money, and I don’t have any extra. This week I finally forced myself to start budgeting again for real for real, and the spreadsheet is depressing enough on its own. Compound it with how lonely and unmotivated I am, and it’s making me feel worse, though it’s a necessary evil. They say money can’t buy happiness, but it sure can alleviate some of the stress.
Sorry for unloading, but I did promise to keep it real-er around here. Now you know why I keep it to myself most of the time.