I know I ended my previous entry somewhat abruptly, but I think I won't go back and edit it, as it is a perfect representation of what my life is like right now. In addition to working, following two sports and doing everything I have to do to stay on track with diet and exercise, I'm organizing a big graduation party for three of my friends at the end of the month. My to-do list is like a damn novel right now and I am feeling completely overwhelmed. As a result of worrying more, I've been sleeping less, and last night I had a tiny little meltdown.
After work, I had my usual errands to run, finishing up at Whole Foods. I didn't have a plan for dinner, so I thought I'd ask the seafood guys for a recommendation. One of them gave me absolutely excellent customer service- he recommended the bluefish, told me how to cook it and skinned it for me. I had told him that I was looking for a light-tasting fish, not something oily like salmon or swordfish, and pointed out that the bluefish looked pretty dark and oily. He promised me I'd love it.
I got home around 6:30, put the groceries away and started cooking. I wanted to roast the asparagus and tomatoes in the oven before G got home, because we haven't started up our AC yet and the oven makes the house so very hot. While those were going, I threw in three loads of laundry. After the vegetables came out, perfectly cooked, I ran into the bathroom to shave my legs, because I couldn't stand the thought of another day in long pants. Did I mention we're having a filthy heat wave?
When G got home I started cooking the fish. I sauteed sweet onions in butter, added fresh thyme and stock, and simmered until the liquid had reduced by half. Then I added the fish fillets and gently poached them until they were opaque. I removed the fish, discarded the thyme sprigs, and added some baby spinach. When the spinach was wilted, I tasted the pan sauce to adjust the seasonings, and then I started to cry.
It was disgusting. The oily, fishy taste of bluefish was all through the pan sauce and vegetables. I had put so much love and care into the preparation of dinner- it was after 8:00 by this point- and it was completely inedible. I had done everything I could do to make dinner a success, and because the Whole Foods seafood department wanted to unload some disgusting fillets, dinner was ruined. All I could do was cry, to vent my frustration. I didn't have a backup protein available and I didn't have the energy to go buy and cook something else. G was terrified. He didn't know what do say or do.
So we threw out the fish and the pan sauce and made sandwiches instead. G cleaned the kitchen and took out the trash to remove all traces of the Bluefish of Sadness. And I did some thinking- the reason I drive myself so crazy is that I want everything to be perfect and I don't like to delegate. I feel uncomfortable asking other people to do things for me because I want them done to my own standards, which are, admittedly, high. I feel like I can accomplish everything myself- errands, laundry, dinner, party planning- if I just work hard enough, so when I do everything right and it doesn't work out, I feel betrayed by the world. I cried for twenty minutes over a stupid $8 fish fillet.
There's a lesson in here somewhere, about letting things go and asking for help, and then accepting that help as a gesture of people's goodwill, whether the results are pleasing or not, but it is not an easy one to take in. Today, I reject that idea. And I am going to Whole Foods later on to give the fish department a piece of my mind.