Sometimes I write these for me. Most often times than not actually. I go to bed with words that float around my head like alphabet cereal in a bowl full of milk. I’ve said it once twice three times a lady, writing has been my best therapy. It’s helped me part ways with trauma and made peace with some jagged pills I’ve had to swallow over the years. It’s humbling but subtle. To me. Sort of like getting punched out by a linen pillow. Not sure if that made the connection I thought it would. Maybe it’s from sitting still on my sofa with shuffling hertz’s with frequencies hovering ear to ear to try to get both brain hemispheres to shake hands. If I had written this out even as little as a year ago I would’ve questioned my sanity. I still often do but more as a flashback when I had.

I’ve added what I call refusals to my reckoning. Sometimes I feel like I get tested with ritualistic happenstances that try to flip me back into uptight, anxious, in a hurry Chad. Being a small business owner keeps that on track for me but I’m getting better at my mood swings that it carries.

The refusals, without droning on and on about things I no longer wish to deal with are just that. Little things and daily pop ups that seem to dig into my skin I just refuse to follow them. Maybe call them anti trail markers if you wish.

Anyway

I’ve cut down my social media activities by about 75% now. I for the most part post and ghost. I don’t engage or read news articles, I’ve hidden around 100 of you with political psychosis and unfollowed a few hundred more. This isn’t a “I’m better than you moment” it’s a do what you do I just don’t care to hear the same stuff over and over again. Keep your echos to yourself please and thank you.

One of my goals to reset when I went west was to be able to separate myself from work. And I did it quite well. A little too well perhaps but it worked. When I say a little too well it just means I was playing with the idea of removing myself physically from the deli but it was more of a joke than reality.

Could it be done? Probably but then the product begins to suffer when I’m away and once that happens we get what happened to SC. Inconsistencies and drop in sales. This is what I get for putting the “Chad” in chadcuterie. I enjoy working y’all don’t get me wrong but in the balance of things I have a lot of playing to catch up on. I intend to use the rest of my life to balance it. It catch up if you will.

Charcuterie season picks up right about now. Easter is on 4/20 so I sat that little box idea out. I don’t “roll” on Sundays (Lebowski side reference) and I didn’t want to make munchie weed boxes on Easter so it wasn’t meant to be. Anytime I do a themed box I always get those ridiculous LTO shakes in my head. My appetite for over the top food is dwindling along with my testosterone. Sometimes bigger is not better. Right about now I should be knee deep in some foraged mushroom hoagie or soft shell crab soup shit like everyone else. I’m not knocking anyone I’ve been there but some of you are flashing morels like dick pics out here. Put your domes away.

Sorry yall. Lost my passion for food recognition years ago. To each their own.

I wouldn’t mind if I was still rocking in my chair next to a fire in Escalante. One thing I enjoy about these little tourist towns are some the the proprietors ability to combine interests into one concept. I throughly enjoyed getting a dirty chai while shopping for outfitter finds. There was a pizza place that did the same exact thing. Give me something to drink or snack on and I’ll roam your retail for half an hour. It’s rare to find good food in some of these towns. Most places are founded by folk who love the activities of the surrounding area and constructed a business to maintain their hobbies. Some do it well while others shit the bed. It’s a crap shoot.

Pun intended

Also Moab is quite the little epicenter of good food downtown. As is Golden, CO. Had breakfast in Pagosa. Little cafe called two hippies and a van or something like that. Huervos rancheros is my go to. It hit the spot and I always add a pancake on the side because who the hell doesn’t like pancakes. I’ve always said the only way I’d open up another restaurant it would be a diner. Or partner with because you won’t get me on another kitchen line ever again. Cooking = drinking post shift. We’ve done that been there enough folks. I’m on day 1203 without a hangover. I used to count all the days. Now it’s like “oh hey I forgot about you”.

All that means is my sobriety has become my daily habit. *sticks two fingers in the air at vodka”

I made peace with my deli while I was gone. That may sound weird to some of you but if you’ve ever owned your own business you may get it. I was not getting along with the tether my deli came with. Yes I was fully aware of the sacrifice that came with opening it but she came with a few more bumps than I anticipated so we had to reckon with that.

I made another punch list of things to add to her this next month. Always evolving always updating. Nothing dramatic I like to keep things fresh is all. Slowly removing some of the market. Just not working. Not a loss it’s taking up some valuable space I could use for other things. May bring a baker in to add more sweets and such. I cam do cookies and muffins with my free time and that’s about it.

Not sure how many will read this. I’m posting but not on fb I just don’t enjoy it anymore. It’s run it’s course and so have I. We all have so many opinions we feel we have to share on there.

*shrugs

I keep telling myself to write some non fiction to get out of this cathartic dump I get into sometimes. It never was intended until I recognized the benefits but it’s starting to get stale. Like moving furniture around in my head. Need to find my mental feng shui. That’s my current project. I want to dump all of my writing into a ChatGPT so I can get a free therapist. It may work you never know.

I never know how to end these blogs correctly so let’s try one abruptly this time.