Sunday: it was a tiring, unspun day, clogged with snotty tissues rising like yeast on my son’s night stand, bowls of uneaten soup and cups of unsipped tea, rumpled sheets and the constant search for the inhaler to administer puffs of albuterol. A sleepless night. The day meted out in four-hour increments for medication. Finally, I’m able to leave the house for a quick trip to the gym. I sit in my car. I’m alone. I’m unneeded (this is a good thing). I’m too tired to start the next thing, and then I get the Urge. Fierce, sudden, and uncontrollable. Why don’t I do it? There’s no one around… time for a quick one. I deserve it. And without further thought, driven by primal need, I pull it out.
Squawk! Squawk! Da-da-da dah, da-da-da dah, da-da-da-da-da-da-da dah…
I know. I know. A week away from Easter I had to break my Angry Birds fast. I was so close! Jesus wept. I didn’t play long, just three rounds of “Ham ’em High” (there were new levels!) where the pigs were on the train, and the next one where they are under a dangling bridge… and then I felt dirty. Dirty dirty dirty. Remember how Piper Laurie felt when she confessed to Sissy Spacek in “Carrie” about her husband coming home that night with whiskey on his breath?
No app games since, though I did play “Toy Story 3” on the PS3 with Benjamin (he was sick! It was bonding!) I’ll be able to hold off now until the Resurrection, mostly because I’ll be baking AND because I found a new, healthy alternative to games, something quick and fun and entertaining!
It’s good. Really laugh-out-loud funny, and in easy, snack-size portions. If you like “30 Rock” and Liz Lemon, this is just more yummy goodness. (She writes just like my friend Sue Ferrara talks. Amazing.) If you don’t like “30 Rock,” (yes Mom, I know you can’t stand her AND that Baldwin fellow) then by all means, shun the book, or better yet, buy a copy and bring it to the book-burning that I’m sure Sarah Palin is organizing right about now.
All right, must go and make a pizza rustica. And sticky buns. Maybe a brioche.