Poached Eggs

I've decided to make this less a day by day diary. The pressure I felt to always be positive and moving forward was too great and the second after I sent out an email saying "hey check out my blog" I disappeared. Suffice to say that I have suffered another setback, or rather my current pain management stopped working and back to the drawing board. Enough about that let me tell you what I cooked this past week.

I'm not exactly a chef, more of a take out menu kind of a gal, but moving to the suburbs has taken me out of the land of Thai Food, Indian Food, Polish Food Take Out Heaven. Not to mention that I've married into an Italian Family which means that I'm slightly sick of Italian Food. I should also mention that my Father in Law is Catholic and observes no meat on Friday. Earlier in the week he made a fish fry and we all commented on how much we all love fish. I latched onto that because if we could eat fish twice a week, then I'd be eating a HELL of a lot healthier. So I said I'd cook on Friday.

I don't usually cook because standing on granite makes my back tight in 10 minutes and that blows, rendering me useless to do much more than lay around after that. So Friday Michael and I went to the fish store where I decided salmon (my fave, not to mention healthy with good Omega 3 Fatty Acids) was it. Since I don't know how to cook and the men in my life won't eat raw fish I asked the nice women behind the counter how long? and on what temp? I figured I'd bake it. I marinated it in reduced sodium (Dad has high blood pressure) teriyaki sauce and sprinkled on sesame seeds (I love em) and used my awesome red stoneware baking thing - it's so pretty. I complemented it with broccoli and faux garlic mashed potatoes (cauliflower smooshed up with a teensy bit of butter, stinky peccarino romano cheese and garlic salt (or powder) it was delicious.

This morning I woke up around 2, not exactly early but my leg was throbbing all night and I didn't get to bed until around 5:30 or so. I woke up sick of cereal and craving poached eggs over toast. Turns out poached eggs may sound hard to make, but man was it easy. Boil water (which I know how to do) but with salt in it to make it boil at a higher temperature (I'm not sure why I know that, but oddly enough I do). I cracked the egg into a little cup (just like google told me to) and then poured it into the simmering water (to which I had added a splash of vinegar - so the eggs don't just look like snot but instead stick together). I followed the instructions and let them float in the water for about 4 minutes. After the toast was buttered I flopped on the eggs and were delighted that yold oozed out. Unfortunately the yolk was still mostly cooked. I try 2 or 3 minutes tomorrow :-)

Mad World

I'm listening to Gary Jules song Mad World and it suits my mood to a T. It's 3:15 AM and I'm blogging because crying in bed, for the second time this week, while trying to fall asleep seems a slippery slope. I haven't blogged in so long because I wanted this blog to be my way back up from someplace, well, down. And right now I feel down, down, down. As Michael says, my quality of life blows, well that's my word his is sucks, my quality of life sucks. After back surgery, and recovery, and re-herniation, and all of the epidurals, and the acupuncture and the ups and downs of rehab I still can't sit for any real length of time without the next day sucking. I haven't been able to since January 28, 2007. I've been on pain medication more or less the entire time. Doesn't that just make you want to cry. I know it makes me cry. The pain is back. It's different, following a different path maybe not physically as bad but mentally it's torture. To add complete insult to injury I can actually feel the neuroma in my left foot when I stand or walk or sit with my feet on the ground. It also makes my ring toe crack when I straighten it, my toe, is actually tight. It's just completely ridiculous. I feel that if I don't occupy my mind with books or TV or my husband or friends problems I will completely lose it. I am useless. I can do nothing, except sleep. In my sleep I dream and in my dreams I am not limited in any way. I can walk, I can run, I can do anything. I find myself not setting my alarm clock, sleeping as long as I can as long as I'm dreaming. I don't know what to do. I don't know if there's anything I can do.
I'm glad I got that out. It's time for bed. Good night.