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dragonlady7Z is the best boyfriend ever.
So work today was the sort of good that's really bad, or vice versa. I got my ass thoroughly kicked up and down the back of the bar, and it was painful. I was in so much pain. I just wanted a big old glass of vodka, but I didn't drink any, so I am good. Anyway. I made $130ish in cash and over $100 in credit, so it's safe to say it was a busy day. But I had to count my bank about eight times and only avoided severe disciplinary consequences because of my bank being off by the grace of the cash girl, who flat out told me what my total ought to be.
So anyhow. I finally staggered out at 9:00 (I started at 11:30), beat up as hell, and there was Z to pick me up. "I bought you a present," he said.
He also had replaced the doorknob on the kitchen door, which sticks and has to be slammed shut. Not anymore! Shiny new doorknob.
So I got home and he had made me pirodzini, which are a Latvian thing his gram used to make. They're like little tiny meat-pies, sorta-- palm-size dough things filled with ham and onions and then baked. He also then made potato pancakes.
And the present he'd bought me?
A 64-oz growler of Flying Bison's Dawn Patrol. (Beer.)
And a gallon of preservative-free apple cider.
Boy is the best.
I'm absolutely stuffed on pirodzi and I've barely started on the potato pancakes.
I would share the recipes but I think both are family secrets on his mother's side.
So work today was the sort of good that's really bad, or vice versa. I got my ass thoroughly kicked up and down the back of the bar, and it was painful. I was in so much pain. I just wanted a big old glass of vodka, but I didn't drink any, so I am good. Anyway. I made $130ish in cash and over $100 in credit, so it's safe to say it was a busy day. But I had to count my bank about eight times and only avoided severe disciplinary consequences because of my bank being off by the grace of the cash girl, who flat out told me what my total ought to be.
So anyhow. I finally staggered out at 9:00 (I started at 11:30), beat up as hell, and there was Z to pick me up. "I bought you a present," he said.
He also had replaced the doorknob on the kitchen door, which sticks and has to be slammed shut. Not anymore! Shiny new doorknob.
So I got home and he had made me pirodzini, which are a Latvian thing his gram used to make. They're like little tiny meat-pies, sorta-- palm-size dough things filled with ham and onions and then baked. He also then made potato pancakes.
And the present he'd bought me?
A 64-oz growler of Flying Bison's Dawn Patrol. (Beer.)
And a gallon of preservative-free apple cider.
Boy is the best.
I'm absolutely stuffed on pirodzi and I've barely started on the potato pancakes.
I would share the recipes but I think both are family secrets on his mother's side.
