Almost pathetic, really.
You would think that with all this additional time on my hands *ahem* not working, I'd be turning out fabulous multi-course meals night after night. Not just on the weekends, not just for planned-well-in-advance dinner parties, but even during those days Monday through Friday, that can't really be called the "work week" anymore.
I could barely cook anything at all during the work week. But now, I don't leave the office at some labor-law-breaking hour, too brain-dead to remember to stop at the market for onions and olive oil, too exhausted when I step through the front door to change clothes, too sleepy to realize I should eat dinner. Now, I don't even have an office to leave. I don't do any of that anymore.
Instead, I get out of bed before 9 am only on those days that I have to dash outside in my sorely outdated eyeglasses and a parka meant for Goodwill thrown over my pajamas to move my car to the other side of the street so I don't get a parking ticket for street sweeping. Even on those days, I breathlessly traipse back through the garage, up the elevator, and down the hallway, passing my smartly-dressed, employed neighbors on their ways out. Inside, I peel off the parka and get right back into bed. Lots of times, my glasses stay on, and when I wake up again an hour and a half later, they're under the pillow, bent at the bridge.
Isn't it strange that by the time dinner rolls around, I am exhausted, though I haven't done a thing all day? Sometimes, I think that doing absolutely nothing is more draining than doing everything five times over.
On a Monday night, I can't believe that all the energy I could muster could only make a Nicoise Salad. A salad! I am fully unemployed! *sigh* I could have started braising veal shanks for osso buco in the early afternoon! I could have rolled pasta out by hand! I could have changed the water on bacalao at least five times already! I could have, but instead, I tossed together a salad. Effortless, and faster than Rachael Ray can skip from her pantry to the counter with an armful of generic canned vegetables.
I suppose I get a few points for using some BTUs to hard boil the eggs and blanch the green beans. The potatoes I had to oven-roast because really now, as lazy am I am, I do have standards. Plain boiled potatoes are nass-tee. I roasted them with olive oil and herbs, the same stuff I used to make the Nicoise dressing: garlic, parsley, and tarragon.
I also took the time to look up why a Nicoise Salad is called a Nicoise Salad. "Nicoise" means "in the style of Nice," which really doesn't mean much to me unless lazily lounging on the French Riviera melts you to the dreamy point of only being able to open a can of tuna and bottles of anchovies, olives, and capers. :)