Day 13 was probably the worst day I have had. We were running low on food, it had been a super stressful week, and I was tired and burnt out – on Whole 30, on work, on internal nonsensical anxieties and frustrations. It was bad.
Breakfast was blech.
It was supposed to be sweet potato hash, and I suppose that’s what it was. But I couldn’t make myself eat it. For that reason, I won’t give a recipe. I wouldn’t wish the blech on anyone else. For the record, though, Josh liked it alright. More power to him. I think it may have been the most unappealing thing…ever. Well, except for lunch, that is:
Erm, waiter, there are carcasses in my soup.
If that looks familiar, it’s because it’s leftovers from the zuppa di mare, which I wasn’t crazy about the first time around. The second time, it was like an edible horror movie in a bowl. Again, I had to forego much of my meal.
Dinner was chaotic, and proof that you should always do your homework. Josh called ahead to make a reservation for 12 at Yeah! Burger in Virginia Highlands. They responded that while they couldn’t take reservations, they’d set up a few tables once we arrived. Sweet. We walked in early and realized that it was the type of restaurant where you stand in line, order your food, and then find seating. Uh oh. We asked a waitress, and she informed us they couldn’t set up tables, but we could fend for ourselves and claim seating as it became available.
I started to get a little stressed out. We had ten people on their way, the place sucked, and dammit, I was hungry. We took the waitress’ advice and worked on claiming a spot for ourselves, but then as it got closer to the time for everyone to arrive, more people started showing up. A large party left and I rushed to the manager clearing the table, asking her if it was possible to snag the tables for the party. Nope, she said. It’s first come first serve. I started to become even more stressed out. Why were we told they could accommodate us? Everyone was going to arrive any minute now. I went back to our little spot, where a friend had arrived, and was approached moments later by the same manager- who proceeded to virtually kick us out.
moral of the story: Get your grassfed burgers at Farm Burger or Urban Pl8 instead of Yeah! Burger. They’re jerks.
We scrambled for a few minutes more to try to make literally last second accommodations, and the only place that could take us was Taco Mac, in a cramped booth that left one person sitting on a tall boy chair. After everything, all I wanted in the damn world was a beer. Still, I was able to relax here, booze or no. It wasn’t until many delicious looking beers, chips, salsa, and guac that I couldn’t eat were consumed by friends before Josh and I could dine on a burger patty and a dry salad. (sigh)
The rest of the night was a blast, and had nothing to do with food or alcohol whatsoever. Weird!