Why The Sleep-Deprived Should Stick to Sleeping

You guys would be so proud of me.  I’ve been studying for the USMLE like a beast, which means no outings, no social phone calls, and lots of stare-downs between UWorld and yours truly.  (Spoiler: UWorld is winning.)

Anyway, as a reward for my studiousness, my treat for the day was that I got to sleep in. I know that other people are all, “I’ll go to a movie!” or “Date night! Yay!”  Honestly, I don’t understand those people. Rewards are best claimed in the form of REM sleep.  Bonus points for non-USMLE related dreams. 

(Incidentally, last night I dreamt that my mother had a heart attack and I read her labs, then explained the values of troponin and CK-MB. I hate you, Step 1.  How you gonna crash my sleep reward like that?)

OK, sorry, I digress.

I stayed over at The Lawyer’s last night because I like studying in his office and actually get more focused, late night work done there.  As a result, when he was waking up and getting ready this morning, I was still buried beneath the covers.  When he left for work, I poked my head out long enough to give him a kiss. 

Then, I went back to sleep. 

When I finally meandered into the kitchen, I found a note.  It’s been a rough summer for me, so I’ll admit that The Lawyer frequently leaves me kitchen notes about keeping my head up, having a good day, or mushy stuff about love.  I’m a slow waker, so I usually only stumble into the kitchen after I’ve prayed, done a devotional, washed my face, brushed my teeth, checked email, read blogs, updated Twitter…  Even when I wake up at the same time as him, he can usually write a note and post it before I get into the kitchen.

Today, the note said this:

That arrow is pointing to a plate of arepitas!

The Lawyer had attempted to make arepitas (we go through cycles of breakfast foods, and we're on Latin fare right now) and followed the package directions.

Arepitas with chicken sausage and avocado! Nom nom nom...

Said package directions had called for the addition of salt, which he had followed, not knowing that I never add the salt that the package says to.

This is what you use to make arepas. ("Arepita" = "little arepa.")  I found this at the Chinese grocery store, but any Latin or international market should have it too.

The result was a barely palatable, hypertension-inducing salt cake concoction.  I tasted one bite, promptly declared these a gateway food to hydrochlorothiazide therapy (sorry, yes, I just went there) and made a fresh batch.

I’m usually pretty good at making arepitas (I learned from my uncle last summer in the Dominican Republic), so even though they require more brain power than say, pouring cereal, I figured it would be fine.   

My uncle making arepitas in the DR.

I glanced at the package directions for this brand of cornmeal to refresh myself and dumped some water into the mixing bowl.  Instead of a smooth, fritter-like consistency, I got some little almond-sized clumps.  Clearly, I misread the water directions.  Not being able to figure out how much water I already put in, and also not being awake enough to do the math to figure out how much more water should be added to a 1/6 recipe reduction, I just kept dumping water in until things looked…right.

They were a little squishy, but definitely better than the salt cakes. Into the pot they went!

Don't try this at home...while Boards studying, apparently.

Once they were sizzling, I reached for my coffee cup, without realizing that my hands were slick, and very nearly threw a cup of coffee into a pot of hot oil. Thankfully, I managed to catch the cup before it landed in the pot, or smashed onto the granite countertop.  It was also only half-full, so there was minimum splash.

So, the moral of the story is:

1.  Let other people cook for you when you are Boards studying, because you may harm yourself or others.

2.  Teach loved ones your recipes before you start studying, lest you end up cooking for yourself and end up referring back to #1.  

3.  Just eat cookies for breakfast.  It’s easier on everyone, really.