I got out of work early today, so I started cooking. I made carrot soup in the same spirit of naive optimism with which I do so many things. I knew the soup was a puree, but persisted in thinking that a food processor/blender/mixer/puree-er would appear by the time I needed it, in about Step 5 of the recipe. It never showed; go figure. I mashed and mashed, but the soup is about as close to a puree as LA is to San Francisco. Not close and not alike either. I put it on the back of the stove and moved on to the next recipe. Viva la optimisma!

I've acquired a file cabinet, something I've wanted for a while but have no place to put. A lovely and lively woman whom I met while living with H died last week and left an apartment full of belongings. Her children arrived from Scotland and California to empty the apartment and H let me know there were various items available. The whole thing might have been a touch too macabre, even for my acquisitive sensibilities, if it hadn't been for the marvelous spirit and generosity of the family. The daughter I met was incredibly charming and put me at ease right away. I took several things after that first visit and went back today to pick up the file cabinet. The son was there this time and brought the cabinet down to my car. Inside the top drawer was a teapot and several tea-making implements that his sister had packed for me. It seems she had remembered all the little details of our conversation. I was very touched.

In any case, despite the lovely interactions that brought the file cabinet to me, the fact remains that I have no place to put it. My apartment is still a studio, though I seem to be bent on acquiring furniture and accessories for a one-to-two bedroom space. I may have to start stacking soon!

It's been a stressful 3-day week, which I guess is to be expected. The senior AP person who normally answers all my questions and handles the more complex aspects of the job went to Ireland this week, so I've been treading water more frantically than usual. My brain and body hurt from being tested so often. Although it is "okay" to make mistakes, it often feels much worse than "okay". I carry my weary body home at the end of the day and try to soothe the strains, both muscular and cerebral, that have accumulated at work. I hope the long weekend will give me time to regroup.