Monday, January 05, 2009

Black Bean Memorial

Tonight I had to commute home from the Sac State area and I was really reveling in my little drive. I was writing in my head as I was driving (GEEZ, I am such a geek!), composing this poignant little vignette about my drive home, about that thing that happens to you when you sit down for the last time before you get to go home for the night.

You know, the way you're fine all day and then suddenly you're 15 minutes from your front door and your body just gives up and settles down into a pitiful puddle in the pockets of your jeans? Tonight, my hair decided to uncurl just as the knots in my neck finished rolling themselves up, my face was a sad mess of greasy makeup, and my eyelids weighed 400 pounds each. I think my left shoulder fell off. How does your body know? If I would have had to stay out two hours longer, it would have held out, then it would have been the same sad display at 7:30 rather than 5:30.

But by the time I got home I was on to bigger and better things. I kept writing in my head (it was much better than the weak attempt above--pinky swear) and as I pulled into my driveway in a state of complete agitation (why is it that what accompanies that end-of-the day state is an almost bone-grinding need to change into sweats and get my shoes off ten minutes ago?) I was musing about my dinner and how amazing--nay--thoughtful and diligent with my planning I had been this morning because I put on a pot of black bean and ham soup so I'd come home to a warm house and a hot meal without having to lift a finger.

Do you see where this is going?

In fact, my brilliance wasn't just in putting it in the crock pot this morning, it was in planning my meals for the week Sunday night, making the soup, separating it into plastic bags and freezing it.

Well, so much for that. In-freaking-edible. I nuked that soup and I nuked it good. I don't mean microwaving. All that was left was this sick looking pile in the bottom of the crock pot. Nary a drop of moisture to be found. I guess dividing it in half was a mistake. I guess setting the crock pot for 8 hours when I really left it on for 11 wasn't good. All I really had to do was heat the STUPID soup up on the stove. So much for planning.

If you're going to ruin a meal, I suggest that it's full of black beans so it looks like some kind of charred remains. It was glorious. Glorious.


My thought for today (unrelated, BTW): I need to stop looking for the answer. It isn't mine to figure out anyway. I can't figure it out just by thinking really hard. I am not in control.


  1. There really should have been a photo of the used-to-be-soup, methinks. ;-)

  2. I'm worried. I made black bean soup last week and froze it. Now I'm afraid to ever reheat it.