Le McRib

 I think I may have popped my rib back in and now it's just sore. I hope. Fingers crossed.

I always think of things I want to journal about at night and then when I sit down the next morning, I have forgotten. Is this how writers feel always? (Note: I know I am not a writer. Just asking.)

We went out last night. To this little place in the Richmond we've gone a few times. You order inside (in a mask) and then eat outside. No table service. The girl that works inside is super nice and I always tip her fat. I still don't feel great about it but our apartment was so hot we had to get out. We had wings and brussels sprouts and wine/beer and rolled our eyes at the Karens of the Inner Richmond and it almost felt like a normal Friday night.  

Almost.

Looking for a job is hard. Looking for a job during a global pandemic feels insurmountable. If I wasn't married I might have had to move home to my parents' by now. That thought is sobering.

Speaking of sobering, we're going to a modified Whole30 in September (I need a new name). Modified because I just can't get into a no-bean lifestyle. We're keeping our morning beverages and all legumes and yogurt. I use it for a lot of sauces. I'm not inspecting labels for added sugar because I like balanced flavors. But, no cheese, no grains, no superfluous sugar (like chocolate or desserts), no alcohol, no chips/fries/charcuterie. Focusing on meats and produce and no doubt a lot of weed, if I'm being honest. I'll probably document it here for posterity and sincerely hope that no one is reading this.