I chowed down on microwaved oats for breakfast, followed by class at 8:30. I have to leave earlier than before now because I have a student parking pass, which means a 10 minute walk minimum to get from my car to the classroom. After that I met Sweetie for a picnic lunch: PB&J with baby carrots and strawberries. Mmm strawberries. I was supposed to get some reading done after that, but at the last moment decided to accompany Sweetie back across campus in the blazing sun to his workplace. This was an especially smart move because after walking back I was scheduled to meet with L., my new supervisor, to fill out some forms, doused in oh-so-professional-looking sweat.
Here's where the day started to tumble downhill. When I arrived to fill out the forms, expecting to simply put my name down and let the office pull my information from my other recent jobs at the university, we found that I had been wiped from the payroll system. The disability library sure was happy to get rid of me. I had to do every single paper over again, including identity verification. This requires the presentation of either my passport or social security card, both of which were locked up comfortably in my air-conditioned apartment half an hour of walking/driving away. L said it was okay to bring the documentation tomorrow morning, as long as the office had enough time to get me into the system before my first shift in the afternoon.
By the time I came home, swinging by Kroger for whole wheat flour because they were out when I went yesterday, it was already time to start dinner! L's nice, but she's a chatterbox. I was definitely in the mood for proper food.
Look! Something that took more than 2 minutes to prepare! With our crazy schedules and my general funk this semester, I can't remember the last time I really cooked a meal.
Mmm udon. With a bit too much mirin in the nikkudofu; I'm out of practice. Nothing some salty miso couldn't fix.
Don't ask me where the hours between dinner and bed-time (aka now) went. I have evidence of some activity, in the form of a completed assignment and several PDFs sitting in folders that I presumably read. But under the duress of sun, stress, and sleepiness, my brain has rebelled and I can't recall any of it. I do recall attempting to make a new loaf of bread....
When I first raised the lid on my bread machine, I saw this unrisen lump at the bottom and thought, "Oh no! My yeast is dead!" Then I remembered, "Oh wait. I didn't add yeast." What to do with beautiful, hearty, whole wheat & flax yeastless dough? Why, roll it out, cut some rectangles, douse them with salt, oregano and onion powder, bake 'em up and call them "crackers" of course :D
You know why they put little holes in crackers? I do now.
Yeesh. You wouldn't think that a dough completely without leavening would rise so much. But the unorthodox (or super-orthodox, depending how you look at it) method of cracker-making yielded some soft, deliciously flavored crisps that far surpassed my expectations. These expectations being, of course, that I would throw the rock-hard lot away after pretending to try to salvage that dough.
These crackers were an extremely fortuitous accident, because now I have a decent snack to add to my enormous stash for tomorrow. It will be an even longer day on campus, thanks to that little ID-presenting errand. I'll get to the library between 8 and 9 to finish the forms, then slog through some more school work until my shift at 1, volunteer for an information behavior study at 4, and hopefully survive through my evening class at 5:45. This sequence of events means I'll have to find a way to haul two meals and a ton of snacks around with me all day...or give in and purchase a soggy "tuna" sandwich from the cafeteria for dinner. Ick.
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Great idea. I have dough in my fridge!
ReplyDeleteSounds like a busy day. Hope you have time to relax soon!
never thought about making crackers before!!! interesting about needing the hole!
ReplyDeletei'm so lazy...i throw a pita bread in the oven and call them chips. you go "above" me with your creation
ReplyDelete