When you take the effort to be the designated driver, you should be rewarded, right?
I’m not talking fanfare or anything like that. How about just feeling better the next morning than you might have had you consumed alcohol?
On Saturday, we went over to the home of our friends, Charlene and Eggless Chad, for some laughter and card games.
I opted to stay sober and drive. Considering I was still getting over a stomach ailment, I figured it was a smart move.
I liked the idea of waking up bright eyed the next day as well.
So what happened?
I woke up Sunday with a mega headache, was stuffed up and had an unhappy stomach – typical signs of a hung-over Bruce.
Yet the strongest drink I had all night was a Ginger Ale. Everything else was water.
But Sunday morning kicked me in the side of the head like I had been out on a bender.
And I was seeking out fluids like I was dehydrated – again like I had consumed a dozen beers the night before.
I spent the first half of the day camped out in the dark basement, drinking orange juice straight from the jug, trying to figure out what the heck happened.
I slept like crap. The time change only made things worse. Ditto for an early morning caterwauling from our resident feline announcing he wanted company. The little (expletive deleted) didn’t want out, but actually just wanted a lap to curl up into.
So sluggish Bruce made his way into the basement and the cat climbed into a comfy spot and we both barely moved for hours.
I’m still trying to figure out what I did wrong to cause the hangover with out earning it.
Can I blame pizza and wings? I didn’t even have hot sauce, so my guts didn’t have to deal with strong spices.
It is milk and mundane food next time around?
Is this a sign of aging?
As most know, I’m a barbecue fanatic. If it’s meat, it should be cooked on a grill. But Mary Beth has me rethinking that a little bit, especially in the winter.
With our new (to us) upstairs stove, she recently used cast iron in the oven to cook some wonderful items.
I popped by Lenovers Quality Meats recently to snag something for dinner. I went in looking for four chicken breasts, but came away with more – and less.
They had feta and spinach stuffed chicken breasts, which were wrapped in bacon. And they were huge, about a third of a volleyball in size. I went for four, but came away with two to feed four.
And I noticed some bacon-wrapped pork medallions there. I walked out with six of them as well.
Mary Beth seared the pork on the stovetop in a cast iron pan and then put them in the oven.
The chicken went into the oven directly.
They were both awesome. And it wasn’t just because of the bacon.
This barbecue snob may be rethinking the value of cooking meat indoors. It was still tasty, and I didn’t freeze.