Click here for audio: Chopped salad

I was recently told that I do nothing. It will have taken you zero seconds to realize this was a domestic conversation.

 

It was.

 

It escalated fast and pretty soon I’d been accused of so many things it became funny. I don’t even have time to do the stuff I was accused of. Unless, of course, I do nothing.

 

But if I’m doing nothing, how can I be doing all the other stuff I was accused of?

 

I raised this point in my defense. You will not be surprised to learn it didn’t make things better.

 

The next day, post-row, I resolved to make lunch. It was a quiet demonstration that I had listened, and I was trying.

 

Trying.

 

Yeah. That’s been the word of the year so far.

 

Anyway, I made lunch. Being the radical fascist communist liberal pinko socialist zealot I am, I subscribe to the failing New York Times, one of the most successful newspapers in this still-young century. I don’t read it much, I confess. I’m too busy doing an impression of someone doing nothing. I mainly listen to the Daily podcast and occasionally – when doing nothing – I look idly at the recipes pages and imagine myself being the kind of person who could regularly cook such recipes.

 

A person doing nothing who needs to look like he’s doing something is well advised to cook.

Everyone benefits, even if they don’t immediately want to say so.

 

I made lime-ginger chicken. I wasn’t sure what to put it with, so I did what I always do in such a predicament. I made enough chopped salad to feed 40 wolves.

 

As I sliced and diced, I briefly considered slashing my wrists.

 

It would have been doing something.

2 thoughts on “Chopped salad

  1. We’re never doing nothing even when we’re dying, even when we’re dead. By doing nothing, aren’t you doing something even if it is by default?

    Like

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