It probably just boils down to the fact that I am tired of loading and unloading the dishwasher constantly. That is generally enough to ruin my day. This diet is lucky it's not also generating extra laundry, or I'd be out the door. That's right, I would abandon my own home in order to escape all the meat inside of it.
I am also so extraordinarily tired of cooking, as impossible as that sounds, that I would probably eat absolutely anything prepared by another human being, even if that human being were Scandinavian.
Anyway, let's eat, I guess, because what else is there to do, really? Nothing good. Nothing good. So here's some Rogan Josh over roasted spaghetti squash.
|Spaghetti squash: significantly less magical the second time around.|
|Here we are. Indifference toward eggs. Oh, cruel fate.|
|Cauliflower "rice": not very magical in the first place.|
At least it's raining! That's not sarcasm. Rain is goooooooood. It's good for our very brown yard and good for the temperature and good for Anna's street art, which flourishes under adverse conditions.
I noticed Ivy plotting her escape into the wet wilderness pretty hard.
So I turned her loose in the garden bed and let her chow down on some mud.
|Someone in this house should be happy about what they're eating.|