Today marks the beginning of my long, slow death from the Alabama summer. It's going to pass the 80-degree mark today (remember last weekend's snow?), and I'm wearing ... hell, I have no idea what I'm wearing. There's a hole in the elbow of my jacket big enough to pass a baseball through, accompanied by a Wal Mart dress that's somewhere between "spare some change?" and "ask me about my burgeoning fetus."
For someone who rarely sleeps, I'm finding that this Daylight Savings business is slapping me around more than one might expect. Sunday night I got four hours, the entirety of which I spent dreaming entirely in numbers. Long combinations of them, scrolling across my brain at warp speed. It was a completely foreign experience for me, and it was EXHAUSTING. More than a little discombobulating, like participating in a neurological boot camp against your will.
That being said, I have found one major perk to More Daylight Hours: impromptu photo shoots! JB asked for images to pair with some of his upcoming "National Day of" food events. Some of them are oddly specific: Pears Helene Day? What the hoo? But oatmeal cookie day is in there, and that was all the reason I needed to pick up some of the world's best oatmeal cookies at Publix.
These are from a local shop, Big Sky Bread Company, and they are spit-on-your-neck fantastic. The texture is amazing—dense and crumbly but still chewy and chocolatey. There's roughly a pound of brown sugar in each one. And the oats and whole grains give the flavor a sneaky complexity without tasting "healthy" (HEAVEN FORFEND). The best part? Someone else does the baking.
It's almost enough to make a person want to be awake during daylight hours. Then again, that would preclude my becoming a nocturnal mathlete, so maybe we're back to square one.