filled with suprises

Cooking for one is sometimes unfulfilling because when something is really good I'm the only one who knows it.

For tonight's dinner I made a stuffed meatloaf like my grandmother used to make. She used to put cooked eggs, carrots and pickles in the middle, the slices looking so attractive and colourful as she laid them on the plate. It was one of my favourite meals when I lived in Edmonton and visited them on Sundays, baked in clear Pyrex loaf pans. My version seemed to take forever to finish, clocking in around 2 hours for the whole meal (lazy potato salad and zucchini coins finished it off). For just me it was a lot of effort. I must be pretty special. I'll be special until the leftovers run out.

After a mostly dismal weekend, I was happy that today was filled with little surprises. I decided to dress like a lady today and wore grey pumps all day without my feet hurting. Two of my friends from work that I haven't seen for months popped by the reference desk at separate times and we had a little catch-up. I ran into my friend's wife on the street at lunch and bumped into my friend in London Drugs while I was shopping for hand soap. Then another friend stopped by work to say hello and we had a wee chat. I came home to a letter from Japan and a pick-up slip for the books I ordered. And I got called in for a shift tomorrow at Langara.

I'm hoping all of this was meant to balance out the suck of the last few days, topped by Boy Trouble. If it's the precursor of something bad I don't want it.