Scrambled screw-ups for breakfast, crepes for lunch, immaturity for dinner.

I'd like to start off by saying that I thought today was Wednesday. Because of this, I pulled myself out of bed around seven, dressed - to better appease the general public - and made my face look not-so-hideous. While fighting a losing battle with my hair, my mother popped her head into the bathroom and stared at me for a minute.

Mom: What are you doing?

Me: I have a chiropractor appointment today, remember?

Mom: OH! Right, right. Sorry. 'Forgot. Then she leaves for maybe a minute before sticking her head right back near my own. Alex, it's Tuesday.

Me: By that point my neck had craned around, eyes snapping at my mother like she might've slept in a little too late. Foggy head, you know. I hoped. No it's not, it's Wednesday.

Mom: It's. Tuesday. If it were Wednesday I'd be a little more excited for the end of the week.

I take this time to check my phone, see the error, and try to think HOW THE HELL I'D SCREWED UP. Oh right, because I'd checked the date before going to bed the night before to reassure myself of the Summer Solstice. This I did at 2:00 am the next morning. Now, while a new day doesn't start in my world until there's some form of daylight, things just don't work that way. This left me with a shitload of free time and nothing to do.

I started taking pictures of my dog and lying around. (She's adorable when she looks dejected, so I tend to take advantage of her depression. Probably bad, but if you saw her? You'd root me the hell on). Then I posted a thing or two on twitter, greeting the world with my slight miscalculation. And then I mused over the lunch I was having at home with my mom that afternoon.

And what I could make for us.

I'd learned the day before that we had frozen strawberries in the fridge, which I expertly (if not a little panic...ly) transformed into a strawberry glaze. It went smoothly enough to leave out quite a bit, except for the few minutes I decided to take a bathroom break. For those who know me, I'm notorious for forgetting that I have to pee. I'll feel the oncoming spasms in my abdomen, shrug them off, feel a little pain later, shrug that off, and then eventually - usually around four hours later - remember that I have to go and scurry off before I ruin my perfectly nice chair. So, when I actually remember to go I. Go.

This left the glaze sitting all alone on the stove for about two minutes. By the time I came back it was bubbling vehemently and smelled awful. Burning, sticky, red awful. But it came out just as it should and was drizzled prettily over the Strawberry and Nutella Stuffed Crepes I made with the leftover, boiled down strawberries and what little whipped cream I could find in the fridge (thankfully not expired). My mom loved it, I ate three myself, and I excused my previous mistake. Waking up so early gave me the time to create something damn delicious. I let the powers of time and space have their moment.

The rest of the day consisted of cleaning, doodling, and otherwise trying to make myself feel moderately useful until trekking off with two close friends of mine. We hit a local Chinese buffet (I ate maybe four plates worth of food and was starving twenty minutes after driving back home) and did all the usual things: talk too inappropriately a little too loudly; act a little too inappropriately a little too often; feast like the queens we are.

Overall, today sort of went the way I'd prefer the rest of my life to go, if at all possible. A little challenging, some slight disappointment, great success, friendly company, and fun. Loads of it.

Of course, my little crepe obsession is spilling over into promised occasions and meals. Which I'm okay with. I love a good lab rat.

P.S. The recipe I used for the glaze can be found right here. I really can't do this shit on my own. Props where they're deserved: Homemade Strawberry Glaze