SOUP UPDATE
Today the Use-By-Date Soup went down the drain. It was simply beyond redemption. I struggled to eat/drink it last week, to no avail. On the weekend I defrosted the remaining 2 litres and bought a bottle of cream with a view to rescuing it in some way, but today off to sea it went. Moral of that story: start with good ingredients, and it's not always possible to make a silk purse out of a sow's ear. Fortunately yesterday I picked 3 beautiful heads of cauliflower and 2 of brocolli (with loads more still on the way) so here's hoping for better things to come in the soup department.
DEPRESSION
It's a very rare day when I can't find something to laugh my socks off about, but today was one - I must have been a total joy to work with (sorry team). Even though the most childish and absurd things usually bring tears to my eyes (which I hope is a fine quality to possess, albeit probably a pain in the butt for everyone else), today absolutely nothing was even remotely funny.
Another (dubious?) quality is that I always think the impossible is possible. "Why not?" is generally the first thing that springs to mind when I concoct yet another mad scheme, and I'm prone to attempt things way beyond my skill level, thinking if I really really want something badly enough it will just happen. Which is all well and good if you can pull it off because the rewards are incredible, but this kind of attitude also leads to a great deal of disappointment when reality checks in, and the laws of the universe prevail. I mean some things are about as likely to happen as asking Johnny Depp which side of the bed he'd prefer. Doesn't seem to stop me dreaming though . . .
I had a mad scheme brewing on the weekend and I didn't pull it off. Worse still, I probably made a complete arse of myself in the attempt. Occupational hazard I suppose if you dream big? Hence today's depression, but I've learned tactics over the years to get my sense of humour/perspective back (which I must employ before tomorrow's chef school work experience - I have a feeling I'm going to need it):
1. Set a time limit. Maybe it's 6:45 p.m. and you're as miserable as shit. Allow yourself say 15 mintues of self-pitying-wallowing and go for it. Na, I mean REALLY go for it. Let all life's disappointments come crashing down, have a good bawl, feel totally sorry for yourself, be noisy, sob, the whole nine yards, use a whole roll of dunny paper to mop up the tears . Then, when time's up at 7:00 p.m.. . .
2. Stand in front of a mirror and smile. Force yourself. Stretch those facials. If necessary use your hands to manipulate your face. Honestly, it looks so ridiculous with your puffy eyes and lips stretched back in a false kind of grimace that you can't help but laugh. Somehow, a bit of perspective seems to be regained. Then . . .
3. Get on with it. Concoct another totally impossible mad scheme and try again . . .
GOLF BALLS
Generally I ignore most joke/chain letter/touchy-feely emails and never pass them on. But this is one I printed out some time ago as a "keeper" which strangely had relevance to the weekend's activities:
(paraphrased)
A professor stood in front of his class and filled a large jar with golf balls:
Professor: "Is the jar full?"
Class: "Yes"
He then poured some pebbles into the jar, shook it, and of course there was room for lots of pebbles in between the golf balls.
Professor: "Is the jar full?"
Class: "Yes"
Then the professor tipped sand into the jar and of course there was room for sand between the golf balls and pebbles.
Professor: "Is the jar full?"
Class: "Yes"
Then he tipped two cups of coffee into the jar and of course there was room.
The moral of the story (in a nutshell) was that the golf balls are the most important things in life, like friends, family, loved ones, doing what you're passionate about, and that if you fill your jar with sand/pebbles first (things like housework, fixing dripping taps, mowing lawns etc) you'll never find room for the "golf balls". Whereas if you fill your life with the important things first, you'll always manage to squeeze in the trivial. Not to mention having a coffee with friends. I'm totally guilty of the pebbles/sand thing, and often let the golf balls (and coffee) get lost in the bunker.
This weekend I was invited to a friend's 50th (I used to walk to school with her when we were 5!) and I actually considered not going because I had to study. Thank God I found some (golf) balls and went, it was the best thing I've done in ages. And totally coincedentally, she read out the the above "golf ball" thing while we were sitting in the glorious sun at Takapuna beach. It was a priceless day.
Right, enough is enough. It's 7:45 p.m. and I have an appointment with a mirror at 8:00 p.m . . .
