Jerky

I have a confession to make. I have a serious addiction. Those of you who know me may be thinking “ah, yes, the wine,” and while it may be just my denial talking, I will reply with a hearty “no.”

No, this addiction is far more unexpected and therefore more insidious. It’s salty. It’s savory. It calls to me from our kitchen pantry at all hours of the day and night. It is… in two words… beef jerky. Yes, that’s right. I have an almost irresistible craving for salty-to-the-point-of-brackish beef that has been smoked to the consistency of aged leather.

And I’m not talking about those silly Slim Jim sticks. Oh, no. No perfect cylinders of processed meat for me. I’m talking about homemade jerky made from actual strips of real beef. The stuff that looks disturbingly like a pile of giant scabs.

Mmmm. A plate of scabs chased with a hearty red vintage.

I have a pusher, too. My husband’s Aunt R makes the stuff at home and brings it with her to our house every time she visits. I successfully resisted her attempts to get me to indulge in her devilish creation for several years, but last month I guess I got a little peckish after a long run and started craving a salty treat… next thing you know, I’d eaten about 10 strips of chewy, sinewy, jaw-straining, beefy goodness.

Writing about it is making my mouth water even now (which isn't all that surprising, since if you dissolved about 8 strips of this jerky in a large body of water, you could recreate the Great Salt Lake). I had a full dinner tonight followed by a delicious homemade brownie. I should not indulge in anything else.

And yet...

The pantry is summoning me. Maybe I’ll grab just one or two strips. And perhaps a glass of cabernet…

Multitasking World Record

So I’ve been sitting here wondering to myself… is there a Guinness World Record for Multitasking? Because I just tried to Google it, and based on my entire 30 seconds of searching, I don’t think there is.

Therefore, I would like to nominate myself to win this prestigious honor. Why, you may ask? Well, first of all, if there is no record, then there is no record to beat. Hence, I should be allowed to claim the first record and then people can try to beat my record. Thus I would start a whole new competition and give people all over the world something to strive for. (Yes, that sentence ended in a participle… couldn’t be helped, I’m busy multitasking.)

What exactly do you get when you win a Guinness World Record? A lifetime supply of Guinness? Because that would be pretty perfect.

Here is the list of things I am currently doing relatively simultaneously:

·         Writing this post

·         Researching Guinness World Records for multitasking

·         Nursing a glass of fabulous cabernet sauvignon

·         Folding laundry

·         Participating in multiple Facebook conversations

·         Drinking a glass of water

·         Closely following a tragic news story, via these Internets, that I will not go into because this is a cheerful post

·         Enjoying my nightly M&Ms and milk

·         Tweeting (as a middle aged person, that term makes me giggle every time)

·         Watching Modern Family and Cougar Town

I’m not sure if I’m doing any of these things well. There are probably numerous studies out there suggesting that I would be a much more effective M&M and milk enjoyer or laundry folder or Tweep (heehee) if I were to focus on fewer tasks at one time.  But where’s the fun in that?

What kinds of things do you find yourself doing simultaneously? And will you please vote for me to win this record?

UPDATE: The FABULOUS people at Guinness World Records tweeted (hee hee) me this morning to let me know that if you break a record, you get a certificate. I would love a certificate. I would drink Guinness and stare at it happily and might even take a break from multitasking to focus my energy just on that. Help a girl out!