So, it turns out a 6 hour drive home followed by 2 hours of sleep and a hectic, stressful, extra long morning at work are not prime conditions to rush home, cook dinner, bake dessert, clean up the apartment and primp for the boy you're trying to impress. Why did I say I would cook?? Apparently, I decided I was a superwoman, who could defy the rules of actual time and do all of this on no sleep in about 3 hours. Let's just say I burned the spaghetti sauce. I mean, can that really happen?? Well, it did. At least, that's what I concluded when it turned a strange brown color and no longer tasted like actual marinara sauce. So, I tossed the next batch of cookies in the oven and dashed to the store for more tomato sauce supplies. While that's simmering, I realized I could bread chicken while dusting the living room and loading the dishwasher. The next batch of cookies got a little crispy, but at this point, I've now decided it's the thought that counts. The new batch of sauce seemed to be simmering nicely, so I jumped in the shower, after which I discovered I could put makeup on while getting dressed. Then, as I'm zipping up my jeans, there's a knock on the door! Next thing I know, I'm opening the door in bare feet, no makeup and wet hair. Real hot, Linds. Oh well, what are you going to do? I basically rolled with it, opened the wine and finished getting ready. After 2 glasses of vino, I honestly felt like I was June freaking Cleaver, so it all worked out, right? At least, that's how I remember it happening...so I'm going to stick with it.
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