If it has a beginning, a middle and an end, it’s a story, right? Well, by that definition, I offer you this, with bonus features:
Prologue: It was 9:30pm. I had worked ridiculously late so that I could justify taking three days away from the office, one of which was Christmas Eve, the second Christmas, and the third, a Saturday.
Beginning: I was tired, brain-dead and pissed off that I have to justify taking a day off for Christmas. And Saturday.
Middle: I wanted a cookie. I wanted ice cream. I didn’t have any cookies or ice cream in the house, and being the aforementioned tired and brain-dead, I couldn’t rally myself to go out. So I dug through the cabinets and the fridge and got creative.
End: I invented sweet stuff on toast. Grilled flaxseed bread with butter, apricot jam, whipped cream and roasted pistachios.
Epilogue: I did this routine of work late, get pissed, and have no dessert in house for two nights in a row. Grilled flaxseed bread with butter, sliced banana, whipped cream, chocolate chips and roasted peanuts.