I have in my notebook lists of potential writing subjects, lists I started weeks ago, but instead of mining my lists for stimulus, I am staring at the brick wall wondering if I should cook fish tomorrow night with pecan- or walnut-crusted breadcrumbs.
I was about to write AND I DON'T EVEN LIKE COOKING except that is not true; since I recently stole the Cooking Light magazine from the dentist office, I've been steadily working my way through its pages making every single recipe that doesn't a) Look totally gross b) Contain goat cheese or c) Seem just plain silly.
Silly recipes are those based on sandwiches. I mean, JEEZ. Even I, who can enjoy the whole cooking process until right at the end when everything is supposed to be hot and ready to eat at once and then I have a mini meltdown that requires an extra glass of wine, understand how to make a sandwich. Don't insult me, Cooking Light.