I woke up early in the morning and hence seemed to be one of the first among my acquaintance to hear this bad news. So, like some significant subset of America probably, I cried over my morning coffee. And the day never really recovered; basically we refreshed news pages all day, interrupted the news-refreshing briefly to go out for an unusually late brunch, took an early evening nap, had supper, watched the Tonys. There was a morning smoothie, then more coffee (decaf and then regular again). No coffee tasted good to me today. Brunch consisted of a bagel platter with cream cheese, smoked salmon, tomato, and red onion, and a couple of slices of cucumber and an olive. I ordered a side of bacon, but it was so huge (6 slices?) that I didn't finish it. I think I ate 2 slices. I also ate a few of my husband's french fries.
At home, more decaf. Still yucky. At some point I ate one of the mint chocolate truffles my husband bought me for our anniversary. At dinnertime we ate light. I made Madhur Jaffrey's Young Swiss Chard with Sesame Seeds, some plain white basmati rice, and stir-fried tofu. I liked the treatment of the chard: the way the leaves are left whole, parboiled, then dressed with sauce, gave the vegetable some remaining heft and structure instead of cooking down to a concentrated mush like so many of Jaffrey's other greens recipes. Therefore a couple of ordinary-sized bunches of chard can actually serve several people as a proper side dish.
Note: I have an Internet friend who, as the tragedies piled up over the months of June and July, kept taking to Facebook to plead with people, "Everybody please stop posting about what they ate today and DO something"-- she felt that somehow the continuing presence of these everyday or frivolous topics demonstrated that nobody else cared about the giant clusterfuck that is the human race right now. While I can sympathize with her desperation (and she wasn't even addressing me-- I don't post about what I eat on Facebook), I disagree on principle. People, even in times of chaos or despair, or perhaps especially then, need to be sustained by the everyday. Having brunch with my husband, watching an awards show with my teenager, cooking swiss chard in a new way, all gave me (us) the grounding in love and hope that we needed to get through this sad day. Those were not ALL we did-- we talked with others about violence, LGBT rights, and gun control-- my LGBT child went off with their girlfriend to the DC Pride festival, refusing to feel fearful-- but, ultimately, most of these tragedies are beyond our direct control. Continuing to live our mundane lives parallel to our own and others' pain is not only permissible, but necessary.
Oh, we are so tired this morning. After my lemon water and getting my kid off to school, I go back to sleep for 45 minutes. Then get back up as late as I can get away with, fix my coffee and breakfast (no smoothie this morning, my husband has a doctor's appointment and has to fast until then). Breakfast is a leftover chicken leg, the remaining bacon from brunch yesterday at the Parkway Deli, and leftover vegetables from Friday night. I am not very hungry but I have to go to work this morning, need the energy. My energy is bolstered by a surprise piece of insane luck-- new Hamilton tickets have been released overnight, and I find three orchestra tickets for next January 27 at a reasonable price: $350 apiece. That's still expensive, of course, but nothing like what people are generally paying for Hamilton right now.
Work ends up being exhausting-- only time for one cup of decaf coffee, quite early in the morning before it gets busy. Then things go crazy and I am lucky to remember to drink water.
Back at home, I catch up on coffee-- regular and decaf, which I am drinking with heavy cream right now, left over from making cheesecake-- and eat lunch even though I don't feel hungry. I have some leftover corned beef my husband pulled out of his overstuffed omelet on Sunday, on an English muffin with some melted swiss cheese. Also leftover hash browns we brought home from the restaurant. Nothing productive is going to get done on this day. In the early evening, I take a nap again. Then get up and make dinner: the BLTs with Runny Egg from Smitten Kitchen, along with some steamed CSA asparagus with a quick Asian-style dressing, and little cups of mixed berries. The BLTs with egg are really truly great and I would be excited about them if I were actually hungry. The white bakery bread with mayonnaise is a special treat, the bacon high-quality, the tomatoes pretty good actually, and the eggs-- though not strictly runny-- are a perfect over-medium-well, the kind of soft-but-not-liquid egg so many of us are striving for. My kid complains that the iceberg lettuce, which I bought for the occasion, is "really bitter." I don't understand this-- iceberg lettuce doesn't have much flavor at all, right?-- but respect their preference for better lettuce, I guess.
Another mint chocolate. Dishes, walk, bed. I worry that we won't be able to fall asleep again, but then we do.