Why I'm Disappointed

I've been eating left over Thanksgiving for two days. Every meal. I ate some cold turkey for breakfast this morning. Just picked off a little piece before I bolted out the door before the Little Guy and The Boy woke up. I'm oddly okay with this.

Typically, I'm not down with leftovers. People are always saying, "Whatever-it-is is better the next day." And I think, "Not so much". I'm usually quite happy with my food the first day. Why did I put food on the plate that could have been better?  Did I forget how to season? Seriously. I don't get it.

But this week? I'm happy. I pulled all of the turkey on the carcass, and I was happy to see that there was a ton of dark meat left. The Boy is a garbage disposal for left overs--which works out really well for me, by the by. He doesn't like the dark meat though, so I knew that meant there would be more for me.

I know that sounds selfish. I am a little bit selfish, unfortunately.

I'm not sure why I'm so happy about this. Maybe it's the four bottles of wine that were left over from the party on Saturday. And yes, they were all left open, so I've been having to drink them. We wouldn't want them to go bad. That's just crazy talk.

So, why am I disappointed even though I'm wine-and-turkey-happy? I'm disappointed that I haven't figured out the Red Thai soup. And, the fact that nobody's helped me means that either:

1) Nobody is reading, so nobody wants to give me any help.
2) Nobody cares about me or my needs.
3) I will fail at my mission.

I know that left overs and a Red Thai soup recipe have very little in common. But they do have one very important thing in common.

They are what I was thinking about after that second glass of wine.