fig & olive tapenade and a side of irony

Sometimes, there will be days that can only be survived through indulging in every form of carbohydrate imaginable. Today has been one such day.

It hasn’t been bad, mind you — no more barely-contained emotional breakdowns looming like storm clouds at the moment — but I’ve definitely taken solace in the serotonin that has accompanied my gluttonous gastronomic scrounging (evidenced by the fact that I’m currently lying at a diagonal on my bed, laptop on the floor and upper body slumped over the side of the mattress to ensure that my entire self is in direct line of the fan’s trajectory).

It has, however, been a bit stressful, seeing as how today marked the first of three days of language assessment. Today was also the more significant of the three, as it will result in my score for US language assessment purposes. I spent my four hours of free time after going to the cinema and watching a dubbed version of Wolverine which, by the way, I highly do not recommend class alternating between reading very important news articles about Turkish current events in a hasty, half-arsed attempt to seem globally aware just in case I needed to be and eating my bodyweight in lahmacun and dondurma. And then a second lahmacun. And also cookies at some point.

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honeyed-goat cheese quenelle with caramelized fig compote

After my gloriously graceful fall a few days ago, my ankle’s been wrapped and propped up on pillows while I lounge on the couch with a book, trying not to let the heat lull me to sleep. “Meds, elevation, and rest,” the doctor told me when I went to see her. “Don’t over-exert your foot, keep it iced to reduce the swelling, and just take it easy.”

…right. That lasted all of about 12 hours before I got too antsy, pushed myself off the couch, and spent a good three or four hours perusing downtown and the market.

Good idea? Unlikely. But it was mighty productive at the very least.

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