Voices in My Head

Saturday morning showed up and although I feared for the weekend, it turned out well. By Saturday morning I had lost 7 pounds (this in only 3 days) so I was feeling great! I went out to the barn and gave Shorty a pre-rodeo bath and power washed a handful of saddle pads. I am a sucker for a power washer! After my afternoon with the horses I headed back into town. I expected Mitch to come home prior to leaving for his rodeo. I walked in the kitchen knowing I had to cook for him eventually and decided to start small. I pulled out the small lunch cooler and made him three turkey sandwiches. There was a moment that I said out loud to myself, "No Good Can Come From This". Those who know me well also know that I love sandwiches! In fact, there is only two sandwiches that I do not care for. #1 Tuna Melt (or anything made with can tuna-yuck!) #2 - Reuben (or anything made with kraut-double yuck). Other than those two sandwiches....I love them! Toasted, open faced, melted, smothered, grilled, pressed .... Sweet Jesus....I want a damn sandwich!

My worst night thus far started at 6pm when I heard from Mitch. "What do you mean you are not coming home? I made you sandwiches!" I told him. So there I was, spending an evening alone, with three turkey sandwiches calling to me from inside the fridge. It was like the scene from Ghostbusters when Dana opens the door to her fridge, light shines, and the voice says, 'ZOOL'. I was not that lucky, instead of ghosts, I had a turkey sandwich with a high pitch voice, similar to Nanny Fine, saying, "half of one won't hurt".

While making these for Mitch I had planned for a sandwich sabotage, I'm no idiot. To help ensure the fact I won't touch these beautiful turkey sandwiches, I smothered the sandwiches in Honey Mustard. There is nothing in this world that ruins a sandwich (or chicken nuggets for that matter) than Honey Mustard! I understand that the world is full of honey mustard lovers, but I am not one, have never been one, and will never be one. That stinky sauce is my kryptonite and if I have even a drop on my food....it is forever ruined.

Saturday evening, late, too late to call anyone as a distraction, I laid upstairs in bed. I made the trip down the stairs...through the dinning room...into the kitchen.... to the fridge and looked at the sandwiches. I even went as far as to open the lunch box. Well, the honey mustard poison worked, every time I went down there, I ended up grabbing a piece of celery and slamming the door...oh and again, more smoking. I'm not proud that I am smoking, but I can't give up food, booze and cigs at the same time.