I've kind of hit the point where there's so much going on that I kind of shut down. Ever felt like that? I think it's a protective thing. We had friends this weekend! N was attending a conference and his wife D came along to hang out. They live in Chicago so it's rare we get to see them outside our computers. D is so active and vivacious that her enthusiasm for everything is infectious! Most of our time was spent eating good food - at Madison Sourdough, Monty's Blue Plate, Sophia's, and Restaurant Magnus. While N was conferencing (as one does at conferences) we took D to the Farmer's Market and hung out doing homework.

Our big treat on Saturday was Restaurant Magnus - a New Scandinavian joint offering "flavors of smoked, brined, cured, and fresh." I took pictures of all our food and none of them came out because it was superdark in there, but it was out-frickin-standing. We had dishes like Gouda flan with steak tartare, coriander duck breast with lingonberry sauce, wild boar, and homemade spiced orange soda. Our one photo that came out (because we used the flash and annoyed everyone around us:

Yup, that's as much as my husband smiles.

In the photo you can see my smoked onion soup, D's flan and tartare, the homemade rye bread, and our cocktails.

And I earned the food, because earlier that day I was taken on a run.

I do not run, my dears. I am not a runner. Ergo:

Saturday: run. Sunday: feel I am going to die. Not walking. Monday: Merely wish to die. Walking like an eighty year old. Tuesday: Still walking like an 80 year old, but starting to see the good in life again.

Add in double duty at work, thanks to a death in another AA's family, a couple of federal deadlines, and all the partners trying to finish client work before they go on the retreat.... well, let's just say I'm having cereal and bad tv for dinner tonight. Hubs is on campus late for most of this week thanks to class work and networking stuff so I'm on my own to behave as badly as I like. Which means couch, Criminal Minds, and junk foods. There's a jug of lemonade and a box of biscotti calling my name.