Here’s a quick post to satisfy my now 2 readers (I think Chef Hayley’s mom saw my post on Cake Wrecks and no longer has time for me). Every Wednesday night, I intern in FCI’s Wine Fundamentals class. Class is great. I know nothing so every word out of the instructor’s mouth is enlightening… Very similar to my everyday life, actually. I eagerly swirl, sniff, taste, spit and jot down notes for 2 hours. And at the end of class, I earn my keep by dumping peoples’ spit cups down the drain, fighting back the dry-heaving, and wondering whether those financial spreadsheets were really that bad.
But… After I’m done, I return to my wine glasses that I have purposefully saved from the dump bucket. I sit back, eat a couple of slices of impossibly crusty with just the right amount of inner chewiness baguette, and go about finishing my tasting… Without the spit cup.
When I’m done, I usually meet my husband at his office so we can commute home together – basically the bulk of our Monday-Friday quality time. Unfortunately, I now show up every Wednesday night with purple lips that barely conceal a mouthful of large, purple teeth, and after so much wine, I’m also a little emotional. Yeah, that’s right, I hang out in his lobby swaying from side-to-side, smelling like a vineyard, looking like I’ve been drinking grape cool-aid, and sometimes even weeping. Every Wednesday. I will say this, I used to have to wait for several minutes in the lobby for him to come down, but now he’s usually waiting for me outside…
Mindy's Recipe For Disaster 
Okay … I like your Wednesday ritual, I could feeeeel it at every step, ummm … so good! (Are you still in its aftermath when writing this blog? :-))
Or maybe you’re just a Stepford Wife on the fritz?
hah! don’t think so – even that would be an improvement!