Feeling pretty craptacular at the moment. I spent three hours at Kaiser today, trying to find out what is wrong with my knee.
First, I had to wait forever to see my general practitioner, who thinks I have a mild case of patellofemoral pain syndrome (ugh -- just as I suspected) and is sending me to physical therapy. Then I had to wait even longer to get an x-ray. Then, right when I was about to get in my car and drive off, I realized I had forgotten to pick up a prescription for ibuprofen, so I once again went and stood in line.
I waited around so much today that I read two chapters of my new book, Jonathan Safran Foer's Eating Animals. Let me just tell you: This is not the book to read if you are already feeling down. I'm surprised I didn't either (a) vomit in the middle of the waiting room or (b) start bawling and snotting all over myself.
In fact, I am so disturbed by this book that I am finding it difficult to eat. I was supposed to have dinner with some chef friends tonight who are testing their new wood-fired oven, but I know there will be meat, and I don't want to have to explain why I am suddenly and shockingly vegetarian, so I skipped out on dinner.
Pretty much all I've really ingested today is a LaraBar and a curried vegetable, mustard greens and spinach burrito from Avatar's Punjabi Burrito, which recently opened a new location here in Chickenland, has been one of the must-eats on my list and has a sign advertising vegan options in the window.
I wish the burrito photographed a little better because it was good -- messy, but good. I loved the punjabi flat bread "tortilla," and the potatoes in the vegetable mix were delicious. (The carrots were slightly undercooked -- still a little hard, but not inedible.) I will definitely go back to sample some of the other vegetarian combinations, which included pumpkin, sweet potatoes and blackened vegetables.
Anyway, I am trying really hard to snap out of this funk. Unfortunately, the situation is not helped by the fact that Mari just chewed holes into my favorite Splits59 running shorts.
Maybe I should call it a day and just start again tomorrow.
2 comments
Ugh--sorry you're feeling so crappy. But don't let a smug hipster douchebag like Foer make it worse. He disses on my man Michael Pollan and his novels aren't even that good.
Yes, but that doesn't mean the factory farms don't exist. Somewhere, chicken meat is still being put through "feces soup." Gag.
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