American Grandstand (30 March 2007 - 8:37 a.m.)
You know what I hate? When I am asked to rate the level of my pain on a scale from 1 to 10. I can DESCRIBE my pain, but I find it very difficult to assign a number to it. When forced to do this, I think of 1 to 4 as varying levels of discomfort, and 5 to 10 as varying levels of actual pain, from sharp to excruciating, with 10 being unbearable.
When I woke up this morning, the number eight popped into my head. “I give this pain an eight. It has a throbbing beat, and I can grimace to it.” The sensation was that of a band of red-hot steel encircling my waist.
The sciatica pain was (and still is) severe. I cried out as I struggled to sit up. I whimpered as I limped my way to the bathroom. This is a helluva way to live.
In more pleasant news, Daniel and I are celebrating our second anniversary today. This evening, we’re going out to dinner at a very nice restaurant. We’ll be using a $75.00 gift certificate we were given as a Christmas gift. For one reason or another, we didn’t get around to cashing it in until now.
I checked out their menu online, and have decided on the baby spinach salad with mandarin orange segments, Montrachet goat’s cheese, shaved red onions, candied pecans and roasted shallot vinaigrette. However, I can’t make up my mind about the entrée. Which one will it be?
1. Filet mignon – tenderloin of beef with cabernet sauce. Served with your choice of bleu cheese butter, sautéed mushrooms, or peppered. 2. Roasted Atlantic salmon – pumpkin risotto, sautéed Belgian endive, chestnut white truffle sauce. 3. Grilled prime aged sirloin steak (which, surprisingly, is more expensive than the filet mignon) - roasted garlic potato puree, roasted long beans and balsamic port sauce.
Decisions, decisions. What would you choose?
Song of the Day: Food, Glorious Food from the Oliver soundtrack
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