Another year older, and hopefully another year wiser.
And another year left in my 20s.
As I sit here with my leg propped up and an ice pack on my foot (thanks to me overusing my arch in Sunday’s race), I ponder what to look toward to as I start the year of 29.
Reading is a huge part of my workday, and recently, I’ve read several articles regarding chefs and the encompassing dishes or plates that helped shape their life. And as I’m nearing a score and a half, I started thinking about those dishes and meals that have molded me into the woman I am. Be on the lookout in coming posts. (You can bide your time by drunk dialing Congress.)
Also ahead? The New York City Marathon. My foot should be okay by then, right? I mean, I’m not overusing it if I rest it on a bar stool, right?