Back to work. Couple of my buddies got in a scrape last night. It got loud, if you catch my drift.
I can still have beers with them tonight, so it turned out alright.
Yesterday I made homemade raviolis with butternut squash, goat cheese, and sage in a brown butter pecan sauce for dinner.
I don’t care what I ever make again.
I got a deep, abiding sense of sadness and sweetness right now. Every time there’s one of these things it is like a tuning fork trembling far down inside of me, singing a razor’s song.
I like those boys and I’m glad they come out of it good.
Fuck everybody else.
Shit. I thought I had something to say, but I don’t.