I read an article in Fast Company that revealed how few restaurants actually grill their chicken. Most of the time, the chicken is loaded up with all sorts of seasonings and chemicals and baked. Then, and this is the best part, they use a contraption that gives the chicken those nice grill lines. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I think I knew this already. But the article was just another example of how not-real real-life can be. No matter how much that chicken wants to be grilled, it’s not gonna cut it. And do you know why? While there may be more than one way to skin a cat, there is only one way to grill a chicken, and that’s to just grill it. Doesn’t matter what the chicken looks like. Doesn’t matter what it tastes like. That chicken isn’t grilled.
This week has been up-and-down, and it’s mostly my fault. I’ve gotta learn how to stay more levelled out. It seems like one exciting thing has happened after another, and then it’s over so quickly, and all of the adrenaline that had built up is gone in a flash.
Erin is heading out this week, and I’m eating at Pei Wei tomorrow and picking up the Summer 06 T-Shirts, and greeting interns this weekend, and having a pool party next Sunday. Life is going wild in the best kind of way.