Choices needed to be made

I am a planner. I know where I am going on holidays in 2027.

And it’s been booked.

DD is not a planner. He only knows where he’s going on holidays in 2027 because I wouldn’t stop hassling him until he agreed.

In my younger days I was also a meal planner. I would pore over cookbooks, assign recipes to each night of the week and write extensive grocery lists.

There’s not much call for meal planning now the kids have moved out, but I went to Coles on Sunday night and invested $12 in raw prawns to make special fried rice with brown rice and veg for my dinner on Monday.

But DD texted me on Monday morning and put the cat among the pigeons. He asked if he could come and stay the night, as he was flying to Melbourne on Tuesday morning.

I offered to cook fried rice, but he suggested going to a new Indian place around the corner from me, which has an opening special of 50% off.

I said yes because I love bargains and nights out with DD.

But the $12 package of raw prawns weighed heavily on my mind, as I hate waste and food poisoning in equal measure.

I fretted over a solution.

Finally, I decided the prawns must be cooked and consumed. I raced home from work, frantically made the fried rice before DD arrived, put it in the fridge for future lunches and dinners and ran the vacuum quickly over the apartment.

Sadly the new Indian restaurant wasn’t very good, aside from the colourful potato patties for entree, although the bargain bill slightly eased my disappointment.

But, between an exhausting day at work, commuting home, taking the dogs out for a wee, cooking the fried rice, vacuuming the apartment, going to the meh Indian restaurant, sleeping, getting up to walk the dogs and buy DD a coffee, then heading back to work, there wasn’t time to blog or write any Drinks Digest stories.

I fretted over their absence, but choices had to be made. There are only so many hours in the day.

Yesterday was another whirl, although it was a treat to have DD drop me on the doorstep of my office on his way to the airport.

After another frantic day in the office that included a 90-minute meeting with chirpy young people who urged me to write ideas on pink Post-It notes during a brainstorming session (tip: do not ask jaded 57 year olds to write ideas on pink Post-It notes during brainstorming sessions), I raced home to take the dogs out for a wee, eat leftover fried rice and head upstairs to a two-hour body corporate meeting.

I might dislike body corporate meetings even more than pink Post-It note-driven brainstorming sessions, but it’s a tightly run race.

Then I pumped out a couple of Drinks Digest stories before taking the dogs for a walk and battling insomnia.

Today will be another ridiculously busy one on the work front, with the added complexity of the dogs having a grooming appointment at Sugar Paws. Then I’m embarking on an hour-long bus ride from Central Station to a drinks function.

I have no idea why I agreed to that.

More about the what, where and why tomorrow … maybe … worst case scenario I will fill you in on Friday …

Byeeeeee!

Song of the day: Queen “Under pressure”