On the weekend

1.
Remember the time I offered to cook dinner for my ward? And I spent like 16 hours doing it? And it came off smashingly? (At one point there was applause and the chanting of my name which I guess leads me to the conclusion that I don't want to be a caterer, but a celebrity caterer, because who applauds the ordinary caterer?)
The success of the meal was the cream cheese mousse and berry coulis. We used them to dress up Costco brownie bites and cream puffs, and also to snack on all weekend long. (Cream cheese mousse: cream cheese and powdered sugar, whipped, fold in whipped cream. Go. Coulis: a back of berries, some lemon juice, sugar, corn starch. Boil for 1 minute. I blended it at this point and strained it. I was drinking this stuff. Thanks Diane!)
It was soo fun. It kicked me out of the gross depressed malaise I've been wallowing in the last couple of weeks.

Which makes me think: my bossiness and crisis addiction have most certainly ruined parts or elements of my life. But. Is there someway to embrace them? Because, as far as I can tell, they're not going anywhere. Doesn't somebody, somewhere, need someone who's neurotically efficient and loves pressure? Doesn't that sound marketable?


2.
Fun fact: if you've slept too much on Sunday because, like, you lay down for a sec at 4 and then it's8 suddenly, and then you watch "To Catch a Thief" right before you go to bed, you will still sleep restlessly, but it will be Cary Grant who shakes you awake in your dreams, pulling you to urgent champagne parties and dips in the Mediterranean. I.e.: do it. (Also, and this isn't original, can I be Grace Kelly when I grow up?)