California here I come

After a crappy day at work, one that I was able to leave behind and not bitch about to my husband, I still question the appropriateness of me being in HR.  I nearly vomited at what I had to do today.  You shouldn't feel that way if you're not saving lives and working with bodily fluids.  I don't belong here.  I made a poor decision to give up my PhD yet, and thankfully was saved from the brink by keeping one class.  But HR is not for me.  I don't know what is, that's the problem.  I wish I would have studied something "real" - like engineering, or nursing, or hell, I don't even know what a "real" profession is.  Mine feels so made up, made up by a litigious society that is eager to earn money the easy way.  I don't feel like I'm making a difference.  And I don't like it.  

Tonight, as most nights, I was so happy to come home, take off my shoes (4-inch black spike heels, now that the ice is temporarily gone - safety first, as we believe at work), and lose myself in my kitchen.  And lose myself I did.  The doorbell rang as I was tasting my dressing (bread dressing to go with roasted herb pork loin, mashed potatoes, gravy, and corn - a carboholic dinner that will surely make the scale rise by 2 pounds in the morning) and watching Sex & the City (not nearly as good on cable, but still better than vulgar cartoons).  It was a friend bringing us wine, I didn't hear the doorbell, I didn't hear my husband sidle up to me, until he was two inches from me.  I am so eager to lose the sliminess of my day in HR that I blocked out everything but my cooking and wine.  Tomorrow we leave for California, well, two days away, but a couple stops on the way.  I'm ready to get out again.  I itch for travel, new experiences, new restaurants (even though tomorrow we will likely stay at our favorite Little America, which really is like Four Seasons at half the price) and eat at Squatters, which is delicious, but I do crave new restaurants.  But alas, I reserved Bouchon in Vegas for Wednesday night.  I've been dying to dine at a Thomas Keller restaurant, and had to give up reservations in Napa (also for Bouchon) because of timing and travel.  I don't know what to do with myself.  School isn't the answer, work isn't the answer - why are all my questions in life solved with cooking and wine?