Shades of Okay

For the first time since August, I feel sober when I am sober. Steadiness and control have never come naturally to me. For many years, I accepted the fact that I would have to work harder at gladness and ease than other people. Under stress, my psychosis ran away from me and my brain was very unkind. Varying degrees of melancholy and excessive happiness took hold and had absolute jurisdiction over my every thought and every movement.

For a long time people have found me strange and unnerving. I suppose, not comfortable in my own skin would be the best way to put it. At least that is how I felt I was perceived, I have long ago accepted my social clumsiness. This has been thwarting, painful, and most of all lonely. I thank my lucky stars I have such lovely friends who have seen me through my thorny years.

Social anxiety and mania make life extremely hard to live. It is terrifying to find life unlivable and forget who you are and where your spirit is. Fortitude was lost on my youth. Was I crazy? Was I having a quarter-life crisis? Was it hereditary? Was it all in my head? So much uncertainty and no reprieve.

It is strange what a capsule of medication can do. Or cannot do, for that matter. Side effects are sinister. The commercials on TV do not help. Moreover, the commercials gave me enough of a reason to put off getting help.

Never take for granted the ability to think clear and concise thoughts. The ability to feel effortless enjoyment, the gift of getting through the day without a fight. That was then, this is now. Minutes, hours, and days are infinitely easier. I never knew that living and breathing could be so unforced and natural. I like it. What a change from wanting to pack it all in and give up. I want to forget the hardships, but also recognize the importance in remembering them. Such are the vicissitudes of life. I will leave them here for now.

On Breakfast

Sunday mornings are a source of weekly enjoyment in my life. While the masses are busy shaking off their hangover in order to get to church on time for repentance, my husband and I have breakfast. Sundays of yesteryear were merely the day before imminent Monday imposes its gloom upon the nine-to-fivers of the world. Until I met him, a modern day Saint of Sundays who replaced the doom and gloom of yore with delicious divinity manifested as pancake stacks, French toast, and my favorite, the breakfast skillet.

In times like these it is very important to be thankful for the good things in our lives, and I for one, am thankful to be married to a man who is a breakfast skillet connoisseur. Who, for the sake of anonymity shall be referred to as one of the following: The Bacon Authority, The Sausage Link Specialist, The Eggspert (saw that one coming), The Brunch Buff, or most preferably, the Breakfast Ninja.

The most favorable time to start breakfast on a Sunday is around eight thirty. This hour allows for a little sleeping-in yet it does not feel like you have wasted the entire morning. This is preferable timing in our dwelling because the actual eating of breakfast can then coincide with the end of The Sunday Morning Show when Bill Geist is on, allowing for some mellow, yet cheery tunes beforehand. Breakfast is the only routine we have in our lives and it is an endearing occurrence amidst the hustle and bustle of opposing workweek schedules.

Breakfast Ninja usually begins the meal with a lot of banging around in the quaint u-shaped kitchen, a symphony that fills the entire apartment with a reassuring racket. Cabinets are clamoring, uproarious plates are blundering around in the blaring dishwasher, plates clanging against each other, the general stirring around of kitchen items. Taking things out, putting things away, rearranging. I am not sure, but I have to believe there is a process behind all of this commotion. To add to the ruckus, Bacon Authority cooks with his music on and kind of bops around the kitchen while cooking. It is an endearing quality.

Eggspert usually starts the coffee next adding a Drip! Drip! Drip! to signal the beginning of something great. He is quite scrupulous in his preparation with each step carefully mapped out. The cooking begins with potatoes because those take the longest to heat through. While the tiny finger potatoes are sizzling in the skillet, the other vegetables are primed.

A typical breakfast skillet is pretty much a veg fest due to my vegetarian ways. A robust breakfast includes bell peppers, onion, mushrooms, cilantro, and potatoes. Bacon Authority is exceedingly methodical when he is chopping the vegetables. I know that there is a reason for such diligence. Vegetables should be sliced small so that they will cook thoroughly, yet large enough so you are able to pick them up with your fork. Crunchiness is also a factor to consider when contemplating vegetable dimension.

Because I am a vegetarian, breakfast on a Sunday usually consists of an element Sausage Link Specialist and I refer to as Facon. Fake bacon for the layman. This product is made from soy and has similar coloring, taste, and texture as bacon. It is somewhat eerie upon first taste but an excellent substitute nonetheless. The facon is put in another pan and started shortly after the veggies are added to the skillet.

Around this time, the smell is very big in our tiny apartment. I sometimes wonder if the neighbors are as envious of our breakfast aroma as we are when they barbecue outside. I like to think so. Brunch Buff adds the eggs around this time and starts getting the necessary tools (forks, plates, juice, ketchup, etc.) for eating. These next few minutes are the most unbearable because everything smells so good and you do not realize how hungry you actually are.

Last, Breakfast Ninja smothers the skillet with a hearty dumping of Colby Jack cheese. The skillet is skillfully plated up and the appearance is nothing short of stunning. The reds, yellows, greens light up the plate and boast the assortment of flavors and textures. The whole moment is both glorious and exciting.

The taste is magnificent. It is as if your mouth deprived itself during eight hours of sleep and all of your taste buds woke up. I personally enjoy each bite doused in a glutinous layer of ketchup and some green chili on the side. The colors and textures are splendid, you just feel happier and healthier after this breakfast.

Home Sweet Home

It's not everyday you come home to a pencil thin mustache.  Hmmm.....