Scene: it’s 7pm on a weekday, I‘m just getting home from CrossFit, Ginger is waiting by the door, tail wagging and whining at me to take her for a walk, so out the door we go. As we climb Mt. Everest in the neighborhood next to me, (seriously, it’s a hill of death but luckily my dog has no leash skills and therefore practically pulls me up the thing) I realize I forgot to defrost the chicken I had planned on making for dinner earlier in the day. Which is pretty much the story of my life. I either suffer from memory loss when it comes to defrosting things or tempt fate with almost spoiled/forgot to transfer to the refrigerator once it was done thawing protein. I can remember pretty much anyone’s birthday I’ve ever met in my life but defrosting protein is apparently too much for my brain to handle. 30 minutes later, we’re both home and both hungry. I stare at the fridge while Ginger sits patiently in the laundry room trying to will the closet door her food is behind open with her eyes.
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