What is this "off" of which you speak?

They say that the first step in addressing your problem is admitting that you have a problem.

Yesterday the Suitor implored me to take a day off. I was tired, I hadn't slept well, the farmer's market had been crowded and not bountiful in the ways I had hoped that it would be bountiful, and I was anxious about getting everything together for the meals I had planned for tonight and tomorrow night. "You've been cooking like crazy," he said, "and you made an elaborate* meal on Friday. Take the day off!"

And why not? Maybe this way I could get caught up on some posts I've been wanting to write. So I agreed to put off the dinner I had planned, and we went out to run some errands: we made a pilgrimage to Fry's, we ate lunch at Lulu's, I tried not to get lost in Penzey's and Kepler's, I sipped an iced chai latte from Borrone's, and the whole "day off" thing was working out pretty well.

And when we got home, I made guacamole, ketchup, and barbeque sauce.

"What? I need the barbeque sauce for the ribs tomorrow, and I didn't want to buy the ketchup that goes into it when Homesick Texan's recipe looked so good."

"I give up," said the Suitor.

And truth be told, I did feel better after I'd gotten my fix made a few easy, laid back things that I was going to make anyway. But I can stop any time I want. Really!


* In my book, a salad, a chicken, and some pasta (ravioli that I'd made ahead and frozen) don't constitute an "elaborate meal," but the Suitor's idea of cooking is microwaving some chips and cheese for nachos, so I'm being graded on a heck of a curve here.