Sorry for the absence. There are Things Maybe Happening, and my brain is obsessing over them so constantly that I can't think of anything else to write about. Alas, I'm not supposed to talk about it. I wasn't going to mention it at all. I loathe what is known as vaguebooking--posting cryptic, often dramatic status updates on Facebook for the purpose of drumming up attention--, and this smacks of that to me. But it will be a while before we get answers, and I wanted you all to know why I've been absent if it's going to be several more weeks before I can get my brain out of this rut.
I should reassure you, though, that I'm not pregnant, and it's not a bad thing at all. Part of the problem is that it's something I'm pretty excited about, but can't get my hopes up because it might not happen at all.
Oh, and I'm not writing a book. Sadly. But that's something I've been toying with for ages now. I just don't know what to write that hasn't been done already. Humorous observations on life as a SAHM? Done. A million times by people funnier then me, and then a million more by people not very funny at all, but who got published because it was a booming niche market for a while, and now the market is saturated, and people who are moderately funny are screwed. Aaaaand, that's all I got.
Unless there's a market for the memoirs of an ambitionless loser who spent eight years in college, only to get knocked up and have nothing to show for those years except a mediocre knowledge of Biblical Hebrew and a lot of random, useless facts about mathematics and physics. I can just see the cash rolling in now.
(I'm really not as bitter as I sound, honest.)
We have been eating a lot of chicken lately. It's cheap. We have chicken coming out our ears. I am so sick of chicken I could barf. Aside from beans, it's pretty much the cheapest protein source available, so it's what we eat. And I strongly dislike most bean-heavy dishes. The ones I don't dislike I do get sick of very easily. So chicken it is.
I'm requesting fun chicken recipes. Especially ones suitable for an unusually hot and humid summer in a house with no air conditioning. I really like vinaigrette-heavy dishes, but I don't know how James feels about them.
I grilled up five pounds of chicken breasts the other night and froze them, just to get the hot cooking part out of the way. I have four more pounds of raw chicken sitting in the freezer.
And now I'm imagining how horrifying my house would seem in a children's book written from the perspective of cute, cuddly, *anthropomorphized chickens.
And there's my niche market. Horror books for children.
Time to go. Naptime over. Yay.
*Firefox assures me that this is not a word, but all variations thereon are. Hmph.