It really takes so little olive oil to end up with a soft kale salad. So little! I think I’m zeroing in on the right amount. Not even a dime. Smaller than a dime. I threw in the rest of the blueberries, some almonds, and some Parmesan cheese and ate as fast as I could. Ten miles in the morning made me so so hungry in the afternoon. 

K. and I went out for birthday lunch at the place we like to go for dinner in the neighborhood. A strangely small lunch menu. Like, why open for lunch? We split a salad and a sandwich and were still hungry so we ordered dessert. The salty cream on top of the chocolate was really the best part. Next time we’ll ask for extra. I asked K. what I should do in my 42nd year. Do you want to write a book? Sure. What about? I didn’t find that second question all that helpful.

The Q train was just pulling away from the station so I hopped on the R when it came so I could get back to work in time for my refdesk shift. I figured the local couldn’t really take that much longer, right? Wrong. Took forever, winding around lower Manhattan. Never again. I ate my salad on the train. Sure didn’t need more oil than that, but probably less lemon, and next time I’d dry my fruit better. I forgot nuts. It’s better with nuts. Now we’re all out of kale.

I called K. this morning. How do I massage kale? I followed her directions and then added cheese and blueberries and some walnuts. I forgot lemon, and there wasn’t enough cheese, and I used too much olive oil. Luckily lunch is iterative. I’ll get another crack at it tomorrow. I ate and read this book I want to finish today because I have one I’m more excited about waiting for me but I can’t not finish the book because that’s just who I am. Did you know that most people didn’t want to pay for the moon landing? Enjoyed the ride they’d already paid for, says Nye, but something like 60% thought the money would be better spent on things like food and healthcare and fair wages. Well, yeah.