You're Gonna Hear me Roar...

Yes, Katy Perry is stuck in the noggin tonight/day/week.  I heard this song tonight on the way back from dinner and I said, out loud, "I sure haven't felt like I wanna roar in some time."

That's an interesting statement to me. I couldn't figure out where that had come from. I didn't think I felt that way. But alas, I think my inner self had something it wanted me to think about and so spewed forth.

It's true I haven't felt so fantastic in the job front lately. I keep missing things that I shouldn't miss. And I hate that the boss brings them up and looks at me wondering how I could have missed it. I need to really focus again. I half wonder if it's because of working at home. Not having the stimulus of hallway conversations, or the actual "going to work" process to keep you on a regular schedule.  I need to noodle on this a bit more before I put a fork in it and call it just a rambling of some old fart.

Speaking of old farts, tonight was our monthly dinner club with the landlords. Mr. Landlord had a birthday yesterday and I wasted no time reminding him just how much older he is from me.  With a smile of course. He said he feels no older than he did on Sunday.

We went to a Puerto Rican place here in Redmond called La Isla. I've been there a couple of times

Logo courtesy of La Isla

and have had fantastic food. The first time having a Cuban...oh that was a religious experience. The second time I had Ropa Vieja - another experience to be sure. Tonight, not so much. I had their bistec something or other and the steak had the texture of a piece of meat that had marinated in an acid too long.  You know what I mean right? The meat just had this not quite right texture. Flavor wasn't there either.  I had it with a side of garlic and butter shrimpees.  I should have taken a photo because the amount of garlic on these four poor shrimpees was insane.  The taste and flavor was there, but the shrimpees were over cooked.  Chewy and rubbery. Needless to say I wasn't impressed this time.  If/when I go back, I'll stick to the Cuban or the Ropa Vieja.