I find that during this month of daily blogging, the thing I'm talking about the most is... daily blogging. Okay, not talking so much as whining. Like this was anything other than a voluntary experiment, and like anybody on the planet would care if I quit today. I'm not going to, and posts like last night's make me think that I should keep going as long as I can, past Nov 30, keep pushing until the habit is more fruitful and less forced.
But what I want to know is, WHO decided November was the month that we all had the spare time for finding significant thoughts to blog about every day?! I'll tell you who, whoever They are: They don't have to do anything on November 22 other than show up at Their Aunt Janice's house and mutter about still being seated at the kids table well into Their late 20s. They sigh about the two-hour trainride, or having to sleep on an air mattress in cousin Leslie's room. They bristle at Their family's continued lack of understanding about the tenets of the vegan lifestyle, and that They aren't trying to hurt their Nonna's feelings when They refuse turkey for the sixth year in a row.
They certainly AREN'T putting themselves through the (again, entirely voluntary) paces of planning a twenty-one dish extravaganza feast for 17 people. They haven't spent the entire weekend trying to plan out where 17 people are going to sit in Their suddenly-tiny house. They don't have several Google documents sorting out which dishes are going to go on which serving plates and the specific order that each step of each recipe will need to be completed and at what exact time. They aren't having anxiety dreams about a back-talking turkey that insists on still being frozen at 3 pm on Friday. And they haven't been spending the last several weeks not bothering to do a scrap of housekeeping, with the excuse, It's all going to get dirty again before Thanksgiving, so They'll just do a death-con deepclean on Thursday* and in the meantime feel queasy every time They consider just how much scrubbing, dusting, vacuuming that is going to entail. And They certainly aren't missing Their #1 sous chef** with a feverish panicky itch, and occasionally bugging her on IM to run menu pairing theories by her that are probably making her die a little inside that she won't actually be here to enjoy the fruits of La Bete Noir decision-making labors.
The truth is, you know I LOVE this. This is the kind of stress I thrive on, the pressure to complete a project that is entirely complete-able. And the end result is something that I can look back on with pride for the next 362 days. I just wish I didn't have to work this week, duh. What a waste of perfectly good listmaking time.
Now back to picking out the high points from seven different stuffing recipes and rewriting the whole thing at least twice.
*(the level of filth in my house would seriously make you question whether I can somehow infect you with grubbiness just by reading this)
**this is not meant to imply that I am anything less than THRILLED at the prospect of having Megan join me in the kitchen this year. She just knows she has big galoshes to fill.