Do you ever have one of those days where you just want to run around screaming like a maniac, out of sheer frustration with the world?
To say that I "woke up on the wrong side of the bed" today is a definite understatement.
First of all, I'm pretty sure that in order to wake up, it is first necessary to fall asleep.
After a whole night of listening to Mr. Vittles snore away happily, I did finally manage to do this around 5 AM this morning...
...until I woke up in a panic at 6:54 AM thinking for some reason that it was 9:54 AM and that I was horribly late to pick my partner up for work.
I'm not entirely sure why it was so difficult for me to fall asleep last night, but the longer it went on the more frustrated I got... and the more frustrated I got, the more awake I felt.
And the more awake I felt, the more I thought about how silly it was for me to devote 3 hours of my life to watching Bachelorette Ali give away her final rose to Roberto and talk about how 'in looove' they are, even though only 2 out of like 700 couples have actually stayed together.
And the more I thought about how my neighbor, who only speaks to me when he has a proverbial 'bone to pick,' is undoubtedly Beelzebub disguised as a crotchety old man and his minions are the chipmunks and squirrels that like to take big bites out of my garden tomatoes as soon as they turn ripe enough to eat.
And the more I thought about how odd it was that our bird was banging around in her cage and munching her seed in the middle of the night, when I finally decided to get up and investigate and realized it was actually a mouse doing the nibbling.
And the more I thought about how bad it would have sucked if I really did catch my pointer finger in one of the mouse traps I decided to set at 3:15AM and almost detonated on myself because I was so @#^$ tired.
And the more I thought about how great it would be if I could only fall asleep and stop watching the minutes on the clock tick by.
As you can probably guess, an hour and 50-some-odd minutes of sleep is really not enough to sustain a person through the entire day.
And so I have been lumbering my way through it like some flesh-hungry zombie since The 6:54 AM Panic - or at least I was until I bent down to pick something up and cracked the side of my cranium on the pointy edge of a wooden table and decided enough was enough.
Ok, Life, you win. Maggie - 0, Beelzebub - 1.
On days like this, I turn to my old friend The Black Bean Tostada.
He is simple and wise. He knows that some days we do not have the time nor the energy to 'whip up' Panzanella salads and sweet & sour chicken, but we still deserve a delicious meal that we don't have to order from a Chinese restaurant or pizza parlor.
He knows that some days we can only use our outstretched zombie arms to open a can of refried black beans and a jar of salsa.
And that's ok. He loves us anyway.
Black Bean Tostadas
*Note: this is more of a meal suggestion than a recipe, so use your discretion as to how much of each ingredient you want to use- if you even want to use it at all! (But I would definitely do, at the bare minimum: beans, cheese, salsa & lettuce.) Mr. V usually eats 3 tostadas with "the works" and I usually eat 2.
- Sleeve of store-bought tostadas**
- 15-oz can of refried black beans
- Shredded lettuce
- Cheddar or Mexican Cheese
- Store-bought salsa (or if you're feeling bold - try a recipe for pico de gallo, or salsa verde)
- Diced tomatoes
- Store-bought Guacamole (or if you're feeling extra bold - try this recipe for a fresh version)
- Sour Cream
**You can also make your own tostadas using corn tortillas- brush each side lightly with canola oil, sprinkle with a little salt, and bake in 400 degree oven for 10-12 minutes (flip halfway through).