They got me...

Mental Rehab Post #22
I believe I may have bitten off a bit more than I can chew. Or want to swallow. Or something. There are times in your life you get overwhelmed. And at those moments we have choice. We can a) cower and fret and accomplish nothing or b) we can grin like we know what we're doing, give the crowd a wink and go at it like there's no tomorrow and the clock says it's 11:59.

Guess which camp I'm in?

There is no weekend recap this weekend because my weekend while emotionally fulfilling was a educational disaster.

Saturday and Sunday, at the behest of my junior partner and erstwhile chum Schmoopy I marinated about 24 pounds of prime chicken and slaved over a hot stove using my Grandmother's recipe to make Sweet Potato Pie. The chicken I parted out into two pound bags, drenched in Soy sauce, this yellow stuff, some other stuff and then a broth and stuck in the fridge and then the pies took like forever. Measured wrong then other stuff, and I also figured out why my pies never quite taste like my grandmothers. Now all have left is the get the crust like her's and then I'll make them and she can eat.

We all got together for the final cooking. After we'd spent all day in a very nice house in Sandy Springs drinking wine and fretting over minor stuff, myself and the rest of the aptly named Team Rafiki (I may not have spelled that right) drove our dinner of chicken w/gravy, mashed red potatoes, corn, mixed veggies and salad down to this house near Grant Park for families in transition, people who've been dealt a bad break and are working to get back onto something. I loathe to say homeless because they're just folks who for a bit of whatever could have been me.

See, old Schmoopy is all into giving back, and since I support her 1000% that means I am too. Lucky me.

It was emotional. One girl got a little teary in the kitchen. We held babies and I cracked jokes and served food and I felt bad because the cake we got had nuts in it and the little guy who wanted cake couldn't have any. I may have to do that again because I think I owe that kid a dessert.

And all this emotional uplift was buoyed by Sporty's response to her birthday words. She said they were more important to her than the oft desired "three words." Okay...that's a little scary really. But I'm not asking no questions.

But as an educational situation, I blew it. My second memo is due and I've only skimmed the cases. My class preparedness has to get done, so everything else slides to the back for a minute. The simple assignment I thought we had one of my classmates said took him an hour for the first of 12 of the 30 questions. And I'm behind on the digital lessons too.

And I'm sitting here writing this.

I gotta get some sleep. And get it going. Be caught up by Friday. Watch me now, smile, wink at the camera. Here I go.

Barkeep. Let's get some!