I know, it sucks, right? And my condition exists for one reason only: Hilary. Yep. She is totally, entirely and wholly to blame for my current predicament. I suppose you noticed I used 3 adverbs just then. That’s because simply one isn’t nearly sufficient enough to describe the depth of Hilary’s responsibility for this nearly 64-year-old-once-healthy-person now having the back of a 98-year-old.
How can I blame sweet little Hilary for this, you ask? First of all, she isn’t so sweet. Don’t let that smile fool you. But she IS little. Barely reaching a diminutive 5’ 1” doesn’t hide the fact that the woman is no pushover. Nobody messes with Hilary. But I must admit she does have a generous side she shares with her friends. Unfortunately, she considers me one. I’ll explain…
If you’re like me, you frequent a certain restaurant because they serve a particular meal you develop severe cravings for and can barely wait to indulge again. Do you have a restaurant like that? I certainly do. A few of them, in fact.
Once I’m enamored with something, I order it each time I visit that restaurant. Forget the special of the evening or the vegetable risotto they’re known for or the Eggplant Parmesan everyone raves about. I’m narrow-minded once I’ve discovered something that tickles my taste buds.
When I visit Jason’s, my favorite restaurant in Marin, you can bet I’m ordering the spicy Cajun pasta, minus the sausage, please. But first a nice lemon drop sets the tone of the evening. Yep, love me a good lemon drop.