One martini, two martini, floor.

Martinis. Sometimes I dream about them, the dirtier, the better. And sometimes when I order them in Missoula, in order to pinpoint the exact amount of dirtiness I'm looking for, I'll ask for it Iron Horse dirty, not quite Stockman's dirty. For those of you non-Missoulians, that's like asking for something a little more popped-collar college frat boy and a little less dark and skeezy. And don't get me wrong, dark and skeezy has its place, it's just not in my martini.

But I digress. I had a busy, terrible, no good, very bad week. School is particularly stressful at the moment, as are some other decisions that I'm trying to make. I also work three nights a week at a local pizza joint and we are so busy these days and short-staffed that I am plum run off my feet some days. So when Thursday night came around, I was in no mood to cook, nor was I in any mood to go to the grocery store or get take-out. Take-out in these parts involves driving 25 minutes (each way!) for Chinese or getting pizza at the place I work. And really, I smell like pizza enough that I don't want to go there on my night off. So I was left to create something delicious out of what was already in my kitchen. I failed, sort-of.

Allow me to explain, I was tired and willing to put zero effort into dinner so I ended up standing over the counter, dunking cooked chicken and lettuce into blue cheese dressing. Please don't think less of me. It was a dark moment. But it was pretty tasty. And here's the thing, I have a thing for blue cheese dressing. I tend to not buy it much because I like it so much, it turns out blue cheese dressing isn't so healthy. But I figure I eat darn healthy 90% of the time, so I can buy a jar of my favorite Lighthouse blue cheese dressing every once in a while. And let's be honest, it doesn't last very long on the occasion that I do buy it. While I was eating this delicious, pre-cooked tandoori seasoned (thanks, JJ and Megan!) chicken, I was also drinking martinis. It was that kind of night. I may have had one too many. I hadn't had a martini in a while and had forgotten how potent they could be. Whoops.

My point is, I cook all the time and so I think it's completely okay to not cook, at all, every once in a while. Do I still prefer a hearty, homemade dinner? You bet. But sometimes I prefer a dirty martini and a good laugh while watching Bridesmaids. And that's okay.