For almost all of my workaday life, I have been, nearly without exception, almost gonna be late.
Almost gonna be late is a state of mild, yet steadily increasing panic that permeates every single morning before work for a person with my condition whereby you wake up feeling like it might be just a little later than you had intended to awaken and therefore may have to hurry a bit this morning, and then steadily, at each stage where you check the time you’re somehow a little bit later until you leave the house (first having to move your wife’s {who is btw blissfully still fast asleep upstairs} car into the street making you oh just that tad later) and start driving and realize that even if the streets are entirely empty due to some unrealized apocalypse and every light turns in your favor, you will only be 7 minutes late, and 7 is less than half of 15, so you can still count it as starting at 8, rather than 8:15. This all occurs only to realize upon arrival that nobody cares or pays attention at all to your comings and goings.
For a prodigious sleepy-head, I have had some obscenely early staring times at my jobs over the years. I had to get to the library at MCC by 7am (I think my start time was actually 6:30, but the library itself opened at 7, so if I wasn’t there by then I was officially failing the public), and I think the Deli at Lake Lawn opened as well at 7am (again, I think I was supposed to get there earlier, but as long as I was there a few minutes prior would give the coffee time to brew I never got found out). Paint crew started at 6am (but had the advantage of literally waking 5 minutes before you started, blundering there, and then finding a room far from where Bob Sheets was working where you could sit on the floor and sleep for a couple hours, pretending like you were working on “the bottom of the wall”).
Even after my rise into middle management (prior to my precipitous and predictable fall), when I was by no means punching a clock or needing to be anywhere by an absolute time*, I not infrequently grabbed the 6am Southwest flight to La Guardia or the 6am Hiawatha train to Chicago (both of which had me walking into the relative hearts of each of those cities at right around 9:30am local time).
All of this is to say, that once in a great while (and today was one of those rare onces), I find my self awake and refreshed before my alarm is set to go off, and going through my morning steps discovering that today I might be running just a little bit ahead for a change, and might just have a bit of extra time for something (maybe a little reading, a toss with my dog, or in today’s case a {very slightly} leisurely breakfast). Today I had the time to make myself some toast and use up most of the last of the peanut butter jar thereon. (I’m delighted to discover that I’m not the first person to consider this issue
 |
| source: huffPo.com |
Scraping out (most of) the last of the peanut butter jar is an art and a skill that I have mastered over the years. It takes time and patience, and starts with assessing correctly that you have the appropriate amount of PB remaining in the jar: too much, and you may need to have another piece of toast (plus, you’ll have scraped for nothing!); too little and the last piece of toast (AHH!!…) with peanut butter will likely be quite disappointing or needing something else to cover over some of the gaps.
Once you decide to take on this rewarding task, I like to start at the center bottom of the jar, and scrape out to the edges. Don’t worry so much about getting volume on your knife at this stage, your more just trying to get enough together around the bottom circumference of the jar to get one or two small glomps^ of PB on your toast before you begin the orbital scraping process that should satisfy to fill in most of the gaps on your toast between glomps. For orbital scraping, begin at the top, and with your knife mostly vertical, scrape around the inside, where the grooves for the lid are. This should yield you a fairly good crop of filler creamy PB. Next, repeat but just below that first lip of the inside of the jar. This will likely be your most productive line of filler, so be sure to go all the way around. Continue thusly on down the jar until you have a satisfying piece of PB toast in front of you, and congrats!, you’ve (mostly) used up the peanut butter jar.
Enjoy!!
* I am talking here start time or departure time from home in the morning, not for any other meetings or appointments throughout the day. For those, for me, time is sacrosanct and I am on time (or 3-5 minutes early for a meeting off site), every time.
^ Glomp is the standard unit of measurement of peanut butter as recognized by the Seeger Science Ministry (SSM) with one standard issue piece if toast taking 3 to 4 glomps for full coverage.
