Sadness #1 - It's the slow season at the Argonut Café. That means we're drinking that ghastly five-pound jug of F*lg*rs so-called coffee that someone bought when they were in a rush one day, instead of the marginally better C0stc0 blend. Because people are stupid, they keep the F*lg*rs in the freezer when it's not in use. (Never, never, never freeze coffee!) (Not that I suppose it makes much difference if it's F*lg*rs.)

Plans to switch to Starbucks (under the theory that with only half the number of employees, the cost wouldn't be prohibitive) stalled on November's low sales revenue.

Sadness #2 - I thought it was bad when it was two Thursday morning, but then it was minus two this morning, so, perspective. It's 33 degrees right now. People around the city are pausing to note our brief return to unfrozen temperatures. The next mercury nosedive comes tonight and temperatures will stay below freezing until the middle of next week.

Sadness #3 - The streets are largely clean and dry, with occasional patches of ridiculously slick ice where you least expect them. This will change on Sunday, as the next storm system moves in and hangs around through Tuesday.

In other news, I took yesterday off to do some free-lance work and finish up my holiday shopping. I got no work done, but about 75% of the shopping taken care of, so that's one for the plus column.

Today is both Friday and payday. Another positive note.

If I make it to the grocery store tomorrow, I'll have not one, but two new recipes to experiment with on Cooking Sunday! The R.C.'s all-time favorite food is chicken pot pie. She found one or two lower-calorie recipes for it that I'm looking forward to messing with.

My all time favorite foods are probably fois gras and truffles. I can't afford truffles and I have moral and ethical qualms about fois gras, so I can't have it.*

I mention these things because the R.C. brought home a catalogue yesterday that offered fois gras, truffles (both black and white), a selection of caviars, and some truly impressive patés.

There was a moment when my fate trembled in the balance--when I was poised between having ethics and having an entire plateful of fois gras, all to myself. (I almost convinced myself than an entire lifetime of boycotting veal was enough morality for one person.) (Almost.) (*sulk*)

I don't even like geese. They're loud and dirty and mean. (Not, you know, that cows are any more likeable, but veal is baby cows. That's just wrong.)

Plans for the weekend include the usual frivolities (laundry, house cleaning, and cooking) along with seasonal pleasures (holiday cards and some gift wrapping).

Well, SSB**, but that's how it is sometimes. Have a good weekend!

_____________

* More accurately, I don't go out of my way to have it. I mean, I don't let myself buy it. I wouldn't order it in a restaurant, in the unlikely event of my going to a restaurant swanky enough to offer it.

Obviously if I were at a friend's home and they served it up, common decency and good manners would compel me to scarf it up, beg for seconds, and still be talking about it a year later.

** Sorry So Boring