Wednesday, May 25, 2011

woman, i'm italian

I feel so much lighter right now than I have in days (which is belied by my stationary status on the couch right now, and how much I've eaten lately [more on that momentarily]).  I think I mentioned there was some job stress going on?  Yeah, that giant albatross finally got lifted from around my neck.  

The really short and sweet version of the story is, I had another opportunity come along, but it would mean looking the metaphorical status quo in the face and saying "see ya," then looking my literal bosses in the face and saying the same. So after some deliberation, I decided to take the offer, and that alone was a feat (decisions are not my forte, so much so that my best friend once gave me a hilarious "pro/con" note pad for a birthday). But what was really keeping me up at night was breaking the news to my bosses, who I very much like and respect.  

This whole situation was infinitely complicated by the slow-moving nature of bureaucracy.  I knew the new gig wanted me to start June 6, but I didn't get an official offer in writing until today, and I had already planned to take next week off.  If you're looking at the calendar, you're realizing this means this Friday would become my last day. I wanted to give fair warning, but was scared to do so without an offer in writing.  Receiving the offer on paper today was only partial relief. Telling the bosses would be the only way to get full relief. 

Anyways, today I went out for a galvanizing burger lunch with a few coworkers.  When we got back, I took advantage of the post-burger courage and broke the news.  (What, you didn't know burgers give you guts?) I was surprised at how gracious everyone was, and I nearly cried with relief at their reactions.  You'd think I'd would be out having a celebratory drink right now, but I'm just too drained.  

Which is why I'm glad that my friends are such great cooks, because it means dinner is one less thing I stress over. For Glee night last night, Leana had me over, and I served as the intrepid sous chef. I wielded the giant chef's knife (dangerously, I'm sure) and chopped anything thrown on my cutting board.  At one point, Leana disappeared into the living room to glean leaves from her basil plant, and when she came back, she said "so, do you know how to cut basil, you just ro..." and which point I reminded her "woman, I'm Italian! Of course I know how to cut basil." (Note, it was actually Allie who first taught me how to cut basil, but I now do so like I was, in fact, born knowing how, thank you very much).

So by the time Glee came on, we sat down to a plate of sourdough bread, bowls of fresh polenta and sausage, and a surprisingly good bottle of wine.  If you've never had fresh polenta, I highly suggest you call up Leana and insist she make it for you.  Her number is... Ok, kidding.  But seriously, google that business.  It's delicious.  And I totally concur with Leana's declaration that the zing of the spicy sausage and tomatoes was complemented perfectly by the sweetness of the white corn polenta.  Then we had peanut butter cookies for dessert, because I baked an obscene quantity of them on Monday at the height of my stress fest. Glorious all around. 

And while I had an embarrassingly collegiate dinner of ramen tonight, as I mentioned, I'm headed home very soon, and I always eat well at home.  Since I don't get home often, I've already prepared my parents with my restaurant requests.  It is my birthday week(end) after all! 

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