I have achieved imitation Larabar success! 😀 I’m calling it the Mebar. (Well, not quite. The “Me” part is actually my name, but then we can just call it the “Paranoidbar,” which doesn’t sound like something anyone should want to eat, so never mind…)
This is peanut butter chocolate chip again. Does it taste like the “real thing”? I have no idea, and I’ll probably never know (unless someone who can have the Larabar tries mine too and tells me!), so it doesn’t matter. It was actually pretty good! I decided to try using my food processor — worst case scenario would be that I’d just have to wash it. Provided that it didn’t explode, of course. I dumped in my ingredients (dates, peanuts, chocolate chips), turned it on, and immediately thought, Oh no, what have I done?! The thing went crazy. But it settled down after a few seconds, and I wound up with something resembling a meal at the bottom of the processor bowl. I scraped it out and put it in a baggie, shaped it into a bar, and put it in the freezer. Then I decided to make a version of the chocolate chip cookie dough and chocolate chip brownie, too, since I was going to have to wash out the food processor anyway. Those are still in my freezer. They’ll appear on here… eventually!
Pardon me while I have a miniature existential crisis… I got my credit card bill today. It includes both my vacation and my regulator. As a result, even though I got paid today and deposited the entire amount in my checking account (as opposed to savings, even though they’re both checking accounts, but let’s not get into that), I’m going to have to transfer more money in order to be able to cover the bill. That. Sucks. And I don’t even know why I mentioned this, since this isn’t at all the “existential crisis” to which I was referring.
I retain my title as the Queen of the Colorless Salad:
Romaine, roasted artichokes, tofu, and broccoli. Final conclusion: I don’t think I like artichokes.
The “existential crisis” is that while I don’t think I’m a genius by any means, I do have a mind that needs to be working 24/7. If I don’t give it something to do, it takes off on its own… and it can go to very, very bad places. Thus, it is essential that I keep my brain engaged at all times. My job very often cannot do that for me. It’s bad enough that I am sometimes bored almost to the point of wanting to poke out my own eyeballs! The thing is, it’s not like I can point to something else and say, “That is what I want to do with my life!” I’m sure it wouldn’t be easy to just say, Oh well … so I just spent thousands and thousands of dollars on this degree, but I don’t feel like using it, so I’ll just go find another thing to do. But I’m not even in a position to say that anyway, because I. Have. No. Freaking. Clue.
I’m really afraid that it might just be me, and that I’ll never be satisfied with anything I do. That maybe I’m incapable of contentment.
Except that when I think of what I will hopefully be doing in twenty-one days…
…I realize that statement isn’t true. But I can’t spend my life diving, much as I wish I could!
At this point, I would generally indulge myself with some verbal vomit. But I think I am just going to save that for tomorrow. Because I am feeling too lazy. You’ll get over it, I’m sure.
Question of the day: Do you know what you want to do with your life? How on earth did you figure it out??
“A happy childhood is poor preparation for human contacts.”
(Not quite sure what I think of that!)