Sigh...

Still trying. I don't think I know how to give up. 

I had a friend when I was growing up. Her family raised sheep. I was visiting one day and she showed me her special project. A small lamb--all bandaged up. I asked what had happened to the animal. The lamb had been free ranging since birth and followed my friend everywhere. It would wait patiently while my friend was inside her house, and keep her company once again when my friend came back outside. When school began in the fall, the lamb was penned. It watched as the bus drove my friend to school, then began throwing itself at the barbed wire surrounding the pen. My friend's father didn't notice the lamb's behavior for nearly five hours. When he rescued the bleeding animal it was still trying to escape from the enclosure so it could find my friend. Sometimes I think I'm like that lamb. I recognize I'm bloody and tired, but I don't know how to stop hurling myself at the barbed wire. My common sense seems to flee when it comes to finishing what I start.

Regardless, I'm doing everything I can to stay involved with people, especially Darrin and the kids. Adam seems to be aware that something is different with me. He wanted to spend lots of time with me this weekend, ditching his new laptop to work on a jigsaw puzzle with me for a couple of hours. 

Sully came over last night. We made dinner, then went for a walk in the dark. It was raining lightly, but not cold. I ended up word vomiting for nearly an hour and a half. That doesn't happen very often. Poor Sully. 

Sully often teases me that I should have opened a restaurant or tried for my own cooking show because I love making food. I never could do anything like that--even if I wanted to:

1. When I cook, it's generally driven by a whim. I decide what I'll make while I'm actually in the process of making it.

2. I like to cook because food is pretty. I'm guessing most successful chefs have a better reason than that.

3. I'm almost exclusively vegetarian and cooking with meat grosses me out. That would reduce clientele significantly.

4. I never use recipes. Sometimes I look at them, but before I'm finished, I've always altered it in some way. It's just more fun.

5. I don't measure. Measuring reduces the element of surprise. I just put everything together and if it tastes good, I'm as delighted as everyone else. And if it tastes nasty (although I've only experienced this once, when I was making chili while talking on the phone, and I added a mystery ingredient which ruined it--I still don't have a clue what was added), I can blame my non-measuring/non-recipe habits.

6. I don't want to cook for people I don't love. And if I cook for you, I make you help me. I'm guessing that wouldn't fly with the health inspector at a restaurant. 

7. I don't believe the things I make are any better than average--just more unusual. And I fool people into believing the food is wonderful by making sure they notice how pretty it is--before it's cooked, as well as after. 

8. Except for my sour cream chocolate cake. It's amazing. I made it last night. 

Sully admits, however, that it has only been in my home that he's enjoyed eating food he doesn't usually like. Even watermelon. But I don't like watermelon, either, unless it's been frozen and made into a smoothie. That tastes nice. Sully agrees with me. He also gave my avocado milkshakes a thumbs up. 

And now that I have demonstrated how infinitely unfocused I am today--I must go to a rehearsal.