I only hit snooze once despite my need to hit the off button entirely. I had felt like a little kid dragging my feet to bed the night before enjoying putzing on the internets, the dr. and I alternating trips to the kitchen to snack on the copious amounts of randomness we had amassed over the weekend. Mochi, strange Japanese jellies, popcorn, leftover mint brownies, cinnamon rolls, chocolate cake, all of it hanging out in the kitchen begging to be consumed despite the ginormous bowl of dinner the dr. had made earlier in the evening. He let me nap and read in the poof chair while he simmered things and produced a pasta, heirloom, tofurkey snausage deal that I inhaled in front of the television watching Top Chefs wrestle lobsters the size of Lincoln Town Cars.

I had spent most of Saturday in and out of randomness. I hopped between kitchen, bed, kitchen, vegan bakesale, Valencia street, corner store and bed, kitchen, bed between 9AM and 4PM. I don’t know what time we left the house to visit the Apple store for headphones (R.I.P. non-functioning ear buds). After slinking through the crowds, looking at gadgets and their brightly colored cases we exited the glass box and made our way down Market St. to investigate Minamato Kitchoan. We walked out with a rather large bag of treats and mistakenly made our way to the Muni underground only to be met with a 28 minute wait for the J. Hopping onto the 14 Mission is always an adventure in smells so we did that instead until I made us get off at 16th St. because I had decided I wanted Pakwan for dinner.

Large bowls of channa masala, saag aloo, veggie biryani later I barely remember passing out in Indian food coma.

This weekend can be described in three words. Food. Coma. Lazy.

And for that I am grateful.

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