I'm suspicious of the tomato sauce on the stove. I'm making it for the first time after reading a rave review of the recipe. It only has three ingredients. It seems too easy and good to be true. But I should probably give it a chance. If I were a three-ingredient tomato sauce, I would want a chance. So, I'm withholding judgement while it simmers.
I'm glad that the days are getting longer and that my schizophrenic experience with winter evenings will begin to improve. In the winter, I can't tell the difference between 6:15 and 11:43 and 9:27. They all look the same to me, and they all feel like 11:59.
I shouldn't use the term "schizophrenic" incorrectly like that. It drives Ryan nuts. And for that matter, "nuts" is not a clinical term either. Please accept my apologies.
I have mixed feelings about watching the news, especially when it comes to tragedies. I think it's good to be informed and to be acquainted with reality, but for me, immersing myself in coverage of a tragedy that I can't help more than I already have becomes debilitating. It weakens me from the inside out.
I have a large zit forming on my jaw. It's a heavy-duty zit and it means business. I felt it under the skin days before I could see it. This zit was written and directed by James Cameron and has been years in the making. Buy your tickets now; it's gonna be big.
That's all for now. I have to go stir the sauce. I'm cautiously pessimistic.
Update: The sauce was fine. Better than I feared, but not heavenly. I think I might try it again with two more ingredients: garlic and garlic. And I think I'll let it roast all day in the crock pot.