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Vacation Mojo
My office mate and coworker is eagerly anticipating her vacation. It’s so obvious, there she is working like a cyclone to empty every inbox. Files that have been sitting on the shelf for nearly a year have disappeared. She even brought in a Dustbuster! Coworker over there is experiencing something I survived just one week ago. It’s Vacation Mojo – the fury and fervor we all find for our work just before we embark on an anticipated absence. We’re prompted to tie up loose ends and address everything that’s urgent and outstanding. No one wants to risk being found out when they’re away. It would be horrifying for our bosses to need…
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Grits
As a child, I never cared for grits. I ate them out of obligation. Born into a southern bloodline, I could not escape grits as part of a “good” breakfast. My elders served up plenty of them. And I couldn’t stand the texture of the flavorless mush. But I found ways to stomach them. I’d top mine with whatever was available: cheese, butter, eggs, bacon, sausage. It wasn’t easy, but there weren’t many alternatives. As a child, you eat what is served, risk injury for refusing it or go hungry. As an adult, living in a major metropolis of the South, it’s still impossible to avoid them. Restaurants of all varieties have some…
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Haagen Heaven
This may sound a bit sacrilegious but eating Haagen Dazs ice cream bars is a spiritual experience for me. When I need a hiatus from the hustle – mothering, working, cooking, cleaning, laundering, etc. I drive myself to the gas station, as unassuming as it may seem, and pick out an almond and milk chocolate bar. It’s so rich and indulgent. I usually don’t make the 1-mile drive back to my house. I crack open that box and inner wrapper before I’m even out of the QuickTrip parking lot. Then, gingerly I bite into the milk chocolate shell. I must be delicate because a forceful bite might crumble the coating and corrupt…
