It’s a hot, swealtering day in Brooklyn and I’ve already taken my third shower. Why? Because I was idiotic enough to turn on my oven. Common sense took over when it was preheated to 350 degrees, when as salty teardrops of sweat carved little road maps down the sides of my cheeks, I thought, What the hell am I doing?
I’m making dinner for some friends tonight. I love Sunday suppers
