Tuesday, August 9, 2016
I'm standing here in my kitchen at 7:30 a.m. separating the good, leafy bits of kale from the not-so-delicious stalky bits.
It's kind of a pain in the ass.
Lots of things are a pain in the ass.
Most of what's worth doing is, in fact, at some point, a pain in the ass.
But later today, when I get home from a late-afternoon trip to the gym, after I spend eight-ish hours doing the day job from a laptop at my kitchen counter -- because I am lucky and have a lot of freedom about where my ass happens to be planted while doing said day job -- after a big pot of grassfed ground beef, spices and kale slow-cooked on my stove for four hours this morning, leaving us with a goddamn delicious dinner that was, get this, cooking while I did other productive shit, I'm not even going to remember that 15-20 minutes that it took to tear up all that kale. The "pain in the ass" portion of the morning will have long ceded ground to the "fuck yeah, food is totally prepared and that was easy" part of the day.
There are all sorts of life metaphors in there waiting to be learn-i-fied. I swear.