Day Three--Frim Fram Sauce

The house is quiet tonight. Steve went to bed early because he's starting a six-day tutoring job tomorrow. He, being the morning person that he is, very sensibly goes to bed early enough to get seven to eight hours of sleep. I, being the night owl, would make excuses and bargain with the devil to stay up for an extra hour... or three. I don't have to tutor tomorrow, but I do have to get to school for ample prep time before a noon meeting.

Tomorrow is a little dry run for the impending school year. After making breakfast (with Steve's help), lunch, and dinner, I also had to make tomorrow's lunch for us to take to school. All of this cooking and packing gives me a little anxiety about September and beyond when we'll have to fit in workouts, cooking, lesson planning, and quality time, all after me staying at work way too long.

While I was cooking lunch, Thai Spicy Shrimp Salad, "Frim Fram Sauce" randomly played on Pandora radio. I'd heard it before, but I never really paid attention to the lyrics. I listened bemusedly while I hurried to mix the dressing, chop the veggies and herbs, slice shrimp in half length-wise to saute, then pack it all up before Steve had to leave for a meeting with lunch in hand. I revelled at how shrimp curl up so tightly into little twists when they're halved and look just like calamari. Absentmindedly, I thought that the song was a nice symbol of my quest for tasty nutrition. Not just any food will do; I want spectacular! Lunch, by the way, was exactly what I wanted: salty from fish sauce, spicy from red curry paste, bright and fresh from lime juice, mint, and cilantro. Everything I was looking for after a gruelling workout (Shoulders and Arms followed by Ab Ripper).

After lunch I decided to read the paper. I have the paper delivered three days a week: Wednesday, Saturday, and Sunday. I can count on one hand the number of times in a month I actually read the paper on the day that it's delivered. This was a big step. Today's edition came with a fun little insert entitled, "Discovering Hampton Roads." In my usual fashion, I saved this for last, perhaps sensing that it held a little nugget of gold. After skimming through the front page (huh...what did you do with all that money, Pentagon?), the local news (heard a whisp of rumor about a pay raise for teachers... if it's not on the front, it's probably not there... moving on...), the sports section (how exactly are the Phillies only three and a half games back? as if I need one more thing to worry about), and the flavor section (they should pay me to write this), I eagerly opened the glossy cover of the insert. A random flip took me to the page on which was printed, "Virginia Beach Chorale: A volunteer singing group... under the direction of Don Krudop." It just so happens that I love to sing as much as I love food. It also just so happens that Don Krudop was my high school choral director. I've tried several times to get involved in various choral groups since high school, and nothing has really panned out or been the experience that I wanted it be. Open auditions are August 29. Keep your fingers crossed that I remember how to sight sing.

The day wore on, and minor anxiety settled in like the tightness in my muscles. How will this work when school starts? What if this year is as bad as last year? How will I fit in rehearsals for the chorale I'm not even in yet?

Dinner was good, but not exactly right. I love chicken marsala, but this recipe was missing something. Maybe my mood affected the meal. Or maybe I should use beef broth instead of chicken broth for the sauce next time and see if that gives the dish more flavor. As I fretted over what I feared would be bland chicken, the words "frim fram sauce" kept going through my mind, kind of like a skipping record player. I vowed to look up the song lyrics later.

So here I am, after preparing tomorrow's lunch, folding laundry, wishing Steve a good night's sleep, and watching Top Chef while savoring every delectable spoon of Greek yogurt with honey, my new after-dinner snack of choice. Upon googling the lyrics, one line in particular leapt off the screen and punched me in the gut. "I'm never satisfied." And there it is. Not just the theme of my culinary journey, but the theme of my life. Sarah-can't-live-in-the-moment-because-she's-too-worried-about-tomorrow-and-the-next-day Worry-pants. And I realize that it's one thing to plan, but it's another to stew in your own juices and miss the beauty that's right here, right now.