Today there could be no lollygagging about, because the class I should have taught yesterday was moved to today. I had a lot of stuff to get ready and print out. This also involved going to Walmart to buy paper, because I go through unbelievable amounts of paper when I am teaching a class.
At lunchtime, I went to make my disgusting drink (I now combine my protein drink with my greens and veggie drink so I only have to get grossed out once per day). I put the water and veggie powder in the blender, but then I couldn’t find the protein powder, thanks to the fact that Lucy very industriously cleaned and reorganized the kitchen while I was gone. I looked and looked. The container was nowhere in sight.
I texted Lucy and she thought it might be in the pantry, but I didn’t see it there either. There was, however, a container on the table that looked very much like protein powder. I thought maybe Lucy had helpfully moved the powder to a smaller container to make it easier for me to scoop out. I put a little on my fingertip and tasted it. It didn’t really taste like much of anything. There was an ancient label on the container reading “Chicken Baking Mix.” That meant nothing to me.
I decided it was protein powder, so I made my protein/veggie shake and gagged it down like the boss I am. A couple hours later, Lucy returned home and I told her what had happened and asked if the container I’d used was indeed the protein powder. It was not. The protein powder had cleverly disguised itself as something else in the pantry and she produced it as proof.
This left me with the obvious question: what on earth had I drunk at lunchtime? What even is “Chicken Baking Mix?” Did it have flour in it? Because if so, I could be in big trouble on multiple fronts. I scoured my computer recipes files for some reference to Chicken Baking Mix and came up empty. So, most likely that stuff is well over ten years old, whatever it is. My next step was to test my blood glucose because if there was flour in that mix it would not only mess me up because of the gluten, but it would send my blood sugar into the stratosphere. To my great relief, my blood sugar was just fine.
So, I have no idea what it was I drank. Whatever it was, it is so old that I have no memory of it. I’m sure you’ll be relieved to hear that there is no longer any Chicken Baking Mix in my kitchen. If it has been around so long that I can’t remember what it is, then I certainly have no interest in ingesting any more of it! At least it wasn’t as bad as that time I drank kerosene when I was a kid . . .
After that interesting episode, my students arrived and we began working on research papers. The school year is hurtling toward the finish line . . .