On the Menu

I've been lazy lately and haven't gone to the grocery store in awhile. I'd run out of bread, milk, lunchmeat, eggs, creamer, Coke--you know, the essentials. So yesterday when I was coming back from the Strip, I stopped at Walmart Neighborhood Market to pick up a few items (and also get my double jollies by pissing of the endless supply of union protesters that are always picketing out front). Those tasty thin-crust Red Baron pizzas that I like so much were on sale for $2.80, so even though they weren't on the list, I'm not above the occasional impulse buy. Besides, there is a long weekend of football coming up...

I also picked up a huge bag of trail mix, which is one of my favorite snacks, and I'm a firm believer that all of the nuts, raisins, and seeds offset any ill effects of the M&Ms. One of the other things I bought was a frozen Stouffer's lasagna. I'm not big on any type of frozen food except for pizza (I've never bought a Hot Pocket, and I stopped buying frozen burritos once I got my first full-time job), but damn, those Stouffer's lasagnas are one of the best bargains going. Not only do I get several meals out of it, it's every bit as good as homemade and much cheaper and easier than doing it myself.

So, there I was, all excited about cooking up a lasagna last night, and maybe having a small salad and garlic bread on the side, too. But around 5 pm or so, there was nothing on the tube and I went to my room to read. I must've gotten maybe four pages into one of those poker books when I just passed out, drooling on the pillow. And I didn't wake up again till around 10:30 or so.

Damn.

It was too late to cook anything that would take over two hours to bake, so I just nibbled on some trail mix while Rob and I watched a couple of episodes of Jeopardy on the DVR. I went back to bed around 1:00 am, and when I woke up, I was kind of hungry. The pot of coffee helped, but I didn't feel like making eggs and toast or grits or anything. So about an hour ago, I gave in and finally put that lasagna in the oven. If all goes according to plan, I should be face down in a plate of it, enjoying myself immensely, by noon at the latest.

The problem is, it's not quite 10:30 yet, and I can smell it. It's making my stomach growl. And I'm tired of trail mix already.

Mikey