Save Tamale from becoming the little woman

Welcome to my life! Yep. I baked today. After an hour or so of going through different recipes, I created an easy recipe for garlic parmesan breadsticks and I got out my yeast and my flour and baked some breadsticks. They were super yummy, nicely flavoured with garlic and herbs - not too overloaded with cheese, but nicely riddled with cheesey flavour - and the crust was just right - not too hard but crispy and crumbly. I doscovered the secret to a perfect crust is putting a pan of water in the oven while the bread is baking. Oh, the joys of free time. They went really well with the chicken, pasta and apple juice for lunch. It kept me from starvation and also from boredom. Tomorrow, I may bake something else.

I also worked out this morning - if you can call it working out, cause I almost passed out on the elliptical. Seriously out of shape but I have promised to not be so breathless within the next 2 weeks. I had planned to go work out this evening but then, there is no water here at the homestead - some burst main - and I cannot spend the next 2 days running to my brother's every time I need to shower. Fucking Third World water company.

Housewifing is hard work. While waiting for my dough to double in size, I turned on good ole Oprah and teared up a bit as she and her man, Nate, brought joy to some woman who had lost everything in Hurricane Katrina. Nate fixed up her house and I sat there looking at ideas for my room - colours and furniture etc. Gave me the idea to go to the store tomorrow and pick up a few things. But I draw the line at soaps, and instead watched the Law and Order: SVU marathon, while crunching on my hot breadsticks. I did leave some for breakfast in the morning, so not to worry.

During my supermarketing yesterday, I thought of how I must have looked, in my too tight pants and heels, idling in the cookie aisle in the middle of the day, and I thought to myself, "wow, Tamale, you have the healthy look of a kept woman." Clearly I must have looked like some kept hussy, with my eyes done up in Mac eyeshadow and purse matching my shoes, and Motorola at my ear, shopping in khakis, t-shirt, matching accessories and heels in the middle of the day, when the other strong, black women were slaving over a hot pc, making a living. I chuckled at that one as I debated whether to get Hershey's minis or a full Cadbury bar. I got neither. I got apples. Kept woman. I wish. God...I wish.

Tomorrow, I am treating myself to a peach fuzzy at the bar near the store, where I need to get some new hampers and scented liners for my dresser drawers, cause as I dug around for something clean to wear this morning, I realised my not-everyday clothes just smelled so musty, that I put them all to wash. This was before I realised that there was no running water, and I was using the last of the stored water. Yep. A peach fuzzy saves the day.

And a job. A job would save the day and save me from morphing into Martha frickin Stewart, while my brain cells turn to mush watching frickin' Oprah stick the "S" on her chest and continue to save lives around the planet.

And a job is what Tamale has! The job whoring has paid off. It's not my first choice but do you see me complaining? I still have some other eggs in the basket but I go in to see what kinda money they offering me tomorrow. Whoever says money cannot bring happiness, did not get my car insurance estimate in the mail yesterday. Trust me, in the midst of unemployment, scrimping and budgeting, that took happiness away real quick.