I’ve been anxious all week since the fire. It was so bad on Monday after the massive cleaning spree on Sunday that my hands shook the moment I started thinking about things and what I almost did. I’d been angry and downright mean to the people I love.
Was it because of my fear, or the stress? I don’t know, but I knew it was time to do something about it. Whenever I’d go to prepare anything this past week, I’d second guess myself, doubling and triple checking everything I did. Because of it, and the desire to get out of the kitchen, whatever I made came out bland and tasteless.
Tonight, I did something about the anxiety and got back on the horse. While I did my best not to look up at the burned out scars that our hood had become, I poured oil into my chicken fryer and fried us up some fried chicken.
The night of the fire, it was the best chicken tenders I’d ever made. I felt like if I could replicate, and at least get it close to how awesome it was; I would overcome my fears. I took more safety precautions this time. I kept the baking soda close. I kept the lid to the pot close. I wrapped everything on the stove that I wasn’t using in tin foil. All around, I did more.
I’m glad to report, I feel like my cooking abilities are restored. The chicken came out better than the last time around.The anxiety feels like its passed as well.
I told K that it felt like my kitchen again, and not the fire’s.
I’m also happy to report my hot sauce only got better after an extra week in the fridge.