Swedish Meatballs and Irritability

I am now on a quest to obtain my Aunt Esther's Swedish meatball recipe. She was Swedish, she married a Swede, and I know she made Swedish meatballs. 

Over the weekend, my husband and I drove to the Big City and found the Big Blue Store, where we were herded like cattle through the maze of clutter. I'm not sure why people find this enjoyable. I'll have to admit that the prices are better than many retail outlets, but the fact that there are big directional arrows painted on the floor and everyone seems to be directed by some unspoken entity to walk in the same direction does not appeal to me in the least. I felt like I was being managed (I have an aversion to that sort of thing) and that if I dared go against the flow of traffic, there might be a loud siren and flashing lights as someone quickly arrived to give me a traffic ticket - or haul me off to a labor camp.  It was not an auspicious beginning.

Then we had lunch. What I was told were Swedish meatballs tasted to me like spherical hot dogs. I couldn't believe that anyone really likes those things. So while my husband was eating a huge portion of 'meatballs' which we had planned to share, I ate an entire piece of fudge, disguised as chocolate cake (which we had also planned to share). I was annoyed, because I hadn't wanted any gravy on my meatballs or potatoes (because most gravy has poison in it and it's usually easier to avoid it than to ask questions and get weird looks), yet it all happened so fast that someone had already poured gravy on the potatoes before we could wrench it out of her hand and avoid getting gravy on the meatballs.  But one taste of the meatballs and it was all over for me anyway. Spongey, hot-doggie weirdness. My mouth immediately knew it was a foreign object that should not be ingested.

You're right. My husband puts up with a lot. But he doesn't seem to have any food sensitivities or allergies except for Bing cherries which make his lips numb. But that's another story.

Now we had a situation in which I not only had no protein for lunch, but had substituted a huge dose of sugar for the protein. I know, this was really stupid. But my choice had been between a three-day headache or a half-day headache. In reality, there was a third option, but that would have required being rational going to the back of a long line. I was in no shape to be making decisions. Result? After about 20 minutes I had the headache, was depressed, irritable, and simply wanted to go home. OR find a large Barnes & Noble, a comfortable, quiet place where one could take refuge in chocolate and coffee, magazines and books.

We went home.

Yes, this is very predictable. 

Moral of the story?

a) Always carry a protein bar in my purse in case of emergencies. (I usually do)
b) Always eat before getting hungry.

b) I shouldn't have let Aunt Esther pass from this world without getting her Swedish meatball recipe. 

c) Use the Big Blue Store for a fun stroll through a retail business, but don't go there when I'm actually on a quest to find certain items on a list.

d) Remember to tell Kevin OFTEN how much I appreciate him.
e) I'm not kidding about Kevin. He is a good man! 
f) Tell my friends OFTEN how much I appreciate them.

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