I was in a horrible funk all day yesterday. Poor Lover had to endure my moping & feeling sorry for myself most of the day. I was just so bothered by the fact that I feel so lost in my efforts to find a job. Truthfully, I am making no efforts at all & that is the real problem. How can I expect to be successful in my job hunt if I don’t really want a job in the first place? It’s like me trying to go to the store to purchase ingredients for a Mushroom Supreme Casserole, when I loathe mushrooms. How pointless. I feel like it’s an oxymoron; a conflict of interest; a contradiction. Hence, the reason I am so muddled & confused; furthermore, the reason I was in such a terrible mood all day yesterday. I still feel this heavy weight of Unemployment resting on my shoulders, but I’ve been so distracted today that I haven’t had much time to dwell on my loserness.
This morning, I turned into Happy Houswife Ev’Yan & made banana bread, which is Lover’s favorite. I haven’t made banana bread in a very long while; I used to make it all the time when I lived with my parents. Back then, I was a Housewife in Training, nearing my prestigious graduation to becoming official Housewife status. (All of that was said in joking, but seriously, my mother began our — my sister & myself — Housewife Training at the tender age of 6; we were cooking, cleaning, sewing, pulling weeds, grooming ourselves, writing lovely cards to our father, the number one man in our lives at the time, & all of that jazz at a very young age. I distinctly remember cooking my mother breakfast for mother’s day. Pancakes from scratch, eggs, sausage & orange juice. For 6 & 4 years old, that is an astonishing feat. I suppose my mother wanted to make sure that her girls would turn out “alright”; not like some women who don’t know how to boil water without googling it. No offense to them, of course.)
So my adventures in the kitchen started early this morning, beginning my banana bread making extravaganza, sans apron & cheerful song. I thought about incorporating these necessary traits of Housewify-ness into my baking adventure, but I was still groggy from having just woken up.
There is the recipe, which is covered in some sort of mystery gunk. (I can’t seem to cook without making a serious mess.) The oven was already preheated to 350 degrees Fahrenheit, thanks to Southern California’s bipolar behaviour when it comes to the weather — it was freezing in the house this morning upon waking up, so I turned on the “heater.” Hard to believe that this past weekend it was close to 100 degrees; dreadful weather.
I combined the ingredients together, substituting eggs for applesauce. I’ve never done this with bread — just pancakes, which usually turn out very fluffy — but I figured it was worth a shot. Live life on the edge, that’s what I always say! & replacing eggs with applesauce is the closest thing to Daredevil there is.
It looks completely grotesque (& smells awfully weird) before baking it & it’s hard to believe that gunky mush turns into delicious tasting bread. I poured it into a loaf pan & put it in the oven. Then, I took a step back & looked at the disaster I had made in the kitchen.
This picture really does no justice to the chaotic mess I made this morning. Nevertheless, an hour later my bread was ready to be taken out of the oven to cool.
And there is the end result (as well a very clean little kitchen). All of that work for that tiny little loaf of bread. I had a taste of it this afternoon with my lunch & regretfully, I think the applesauce contributed to its squishy texture. It is very moist & I knew it would turn out this way because of my using applesauce which is mainly composed of water, but I refused to go to the wretched store to pick up a carton of eggs that would just go bad in the refrigerator anyway because we never eat eggs; not just because we’re vegetarian, but because I, personally, despise eggs. The bread itself doesn’t taste bad; it just has the consistency of a very gooey brownie. I cannot cut this bread without squishing it down to about an inch. Sigh. Live & learn, I suppose.
The rest of the day — before plopping my Housewife booty on this rickety computer chair — consisted of picking up my prescription, buying my Aunt a “get well soon” card, taking Sofie for a walk, making lunch & getting the mail. What joy; what fun. I know my sarcasm in this manner is not really fair; I truly am trying to look on the bright side of things, but it’s so hard. I even found myself wishing that I were back at that wretched Salon I worked for. Actually, I went to sleep with it on my mind. That night, I had this dream that I called my old manager, begging & pleading with her to take me back because I miss simple interaction with people. I woke up feeling ashamed for stooping so low as to even dream about going back to that job. Although, I still think it would be better than sitting on my boney ass, waiting for the mail to arrive because that is the highlight of my day. Pathetic! I’m sure REAL housewives have more fun than I do.
In conclusion, here was my outfit for the day:
Now… this is the main reason I am feeling extra-specially Stepford Wifey today. This dress, this outfit I am wearing right now, is something I am trying to still grow fond of. I do not feel sexy in this dress. I do not feel like a femme fatal; I feel terribly dowdy, like I am either 11 years old, or I am a pregnant, conservative Christian. (I am not knocking either; I was 11 years old once AND was raised Christian.) The one thing I do like about this dress is the deep pockets. So convenient for a girl like me, who carries tons of useless shit in her purse & loses her keys, cellphone & ipod in it daily. But taking away the awesome pockets, you have one dowdy, doody, jumper dress… (I wouldn’t mind opinions of this dress before I decide to mercy it to the thrift store.)
The dress is from some store in my old hometown, years ago; the t-shirt & black sweater are from Target; the jewelry is miscellaneous: the oldest bracelet I have on is 10 years old, which are the purple prayer beads; the black one with the big green bead is Lover’s (I wear this much more than he does); the silver modern charm bracelet was a gift from a relative; & the multibeaded one is actually a necklace I made, but I wrapped it around my tiny little wrists to wear as bracelet.