Annie the Grouch

Our office has "doughnut day" on Fridays. Every Friday, one person in the office is assigned to bring in breakfast for the whole office -- many people bring doughnuts or bagels, but the culinarily able of us sometimes cook (breakfast casseroles, cappuchino muffins, apple bread, etc., one guy used to bring in lox and its attendant fixin's, cream cheese, tomato slices, croissants). I enjoy cooking, so I make something between a quiche and an omelette. I only have to get up an hour earlier to make three different kinds, asparagus and tomato, potato and mushroom, ham and cheese (all of them have cheese, actually, so I make a mini asparagus and tomato without cheese for the lactose intolerant). I do it because I like to and a little because I'm showing off the fact that I can cook (same reason I have dinner parties, I suspect).
Yesterday, I tried to go to bed early, since I had to get up early this morning to make breakfast for the office, but I just couldn't get to sleep. I tossed and turned and fretted about... the thought that I hate my job and don't trust anyone I work with! What timing! Of course, I don't really hate my job (just want to get a different one) and like the people I work with, but it was a really interesting juxtaposition of grouchiness and obligation. The grouchiness has faded somewhat, under the pressure of people saying "Wow! Great breakfast! Thanks!" but I'm really glad that during the coming weekend I have little or no plans other than house chores and relaxing.

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