I’m getting dangerously used to having all day, every day, to do whatever I want. Apart from working on a tan and sleeping in, I’m cooking a lot. Both my parents and my brother are at work all day, and when I got home a week ago it appeared that my family had been living on pretzel rods, frozen hamburger patties, boiled eggs, and coffee, simply for lack of time to make anything else. Having appreciative people to cook for and a food budget courtesy of the Bank of Dad is pretty nice. I made grilled steak tacos for Cinco de Mayo, pepperjack cheese burgers for my brother’s birthday, pan-fried salmon with citrus dressing for Mother’s Day. Tonight we class it up with a risotto, and salad with homemade Caesar dressing and homegrown romaine. I sound like a food network douchebag a lot these days. Oh well. Nothing food-snobby about a mini Weber kettle and 15-year-old lawn chair set up next to trash cans in the driveway. We like that carefree line between white trash and epicure.
In further enjoying that line, I bought a pair of Michael Kors shoes today at the Goodwill. They were eight bucks! My office building in Chicago also housed a silly-expensive shopping mall. Every morning I walked inside the building and past the Michael Kors store, but since my clothing budget isn’t in the gazillion dollars range, I never went inside. I’m not one to care about designers or labels, and wouldn’t have recognized this one if I hadn’t walked past the store every morning for the past year, but there’s something satisfying about spending less than a pair of shoes is actually worth (I’d have maybe paid $30 for them) when other people are spending ten times that for no good reason. Not exactly Schadenfreude, but something rewardingly similar.
I also have grand plans for landscaping my parents’ front garden. In the meantime, Dad and I went to the garden store yesterday and put together a little pot of perennials for Mom. I am newly determined not to rent another apartment without a yard, deck, porch or balcony.
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