We had to go to work Monday and we had Tuesday off for the 4th. Everyone was in disbelief that we worked all day. It was dumb and no one was actually working. After much, no one was really there. It was a horribly long day. I might have cried.
The 4th & 5th I didn’t do a goddamn thing. Yvette came back in town and hung out with me on the 5th. She tried to see me on the 4th but I had crashed. I admit, I had some beers. I watched, or rather had in the background, Independence Day. I think it played 3 times. I grilled.
Thursday was another Monday. How do you like having two Mondays in one week. That’s what I had. My time is so damn confused in my head. What day is it. I unfortunately fucked up my back movie some shit.
Friday. Finally Friday. It started fucking bum. I was distracted leaving my house and didn’t notice my garage door failed to open all the way. I backed into it and knocked it off the rail track in the process bending it. I pulled a Bekah. I was able to fix it with brute force but it wasn’t easy. Could have used 2 people. I was worn out before I even made it to work. Really having the middle of the week off threw me off big time. I had some serious lifting. And big fucking boxes. I didn’t carafe for this week. I was kind of in a funk on top of getting my ass kicked at work each damn day. I was looking forward to cooking dinner for Yvette.
Happy fucking Friday.
Jalapeño
Zucchini noodles and marina sauce with meatballs.
Bow tie pasta with meat sauce.
4th of July chili dogs.
Soppin’ chicken thigh with grilllwd zucchini.
Chimichurri Steak again. Date night with my love.
En Fuego 