Yesterday was one of those perfect spring afternoons in Portland. The sun was shining, birds were singing, and every bar and restaurant was overflowing onto the sidewalks with beautiful hipsters. It was one of those days where, when your cousin texts and asks if you want to go out for drinks, dinner turns into hastily made mac and cheese, which you wolf down before walking to the nearest bar, where you enjoy mason jars filled with the some of the most delicious mixed drinks in Portland (I’m talking about Swift Lounge, Portlanders, and you’re missing out if you haven’t been).
So, definitely not an evening for Gwyneth-inspired dishes. I am, however, researching butchers and fishmongers, to try to figure out where I can get the best possible deals and products. I’m warily eying a couple of the more frightening recipes, as I feel I should try to tackle one of them soon, to give myself some confidence. Not sure if I’m ready to stab a lobster in the face yet, though. Or shell out $100 for one home-cooked meal. Ugh.
In other news, I have, with the aid of a few cardboard boxes, transformed my office desk into a standing desk. Because what’s the point of eating healthily and exercising all the time if you’re going to spend 8 hours a day with your big ass held up by a chair? The cardboard boxes and lack of a chair may make me look like a homeless lunatic (or possibly an eccentric genius? Let’s go with that one), but standing all day makes me feel less like a worthless office slob and more like an accomplished hero. I’m standing on my feet all day! Just like nurses, or firefighters! Plus, it lets me walk around the office like an entitled jerk, which is what I always dreamed I’d grow up to become. I can’t say one way or another if this trend of being as healthy as possible (please ignore what I said earlier about the mac and cheese and mason jars full of alcohol) can be entirely attributed to Gwyneth’s influence, but I’d like to think she’s partly responsible.
Is this post coming across as smug and self-absorbed as I suspect it is? It feels like I just wrote an issue of GOOP. Maybe I should start publishing DOOP.