Why, oh, why do I do these things to myself? Let me set the scene:
The time? 10:30 PM.
The place? My kitchen.
The activity? Making freaking baby food.
Nope, I'm being serious.
I bought some apples and pears awhile back, and really, really needed to get them cooked (I've been busy pretty much every day/night for the past couple of weeks, so it hasn't gotten done). We're also down to one container of baby fruit and no banana (though, now that I mention it, I think I still have a bunch of mango cubes in the freezer...dammit...). I went to get some water from the fridge, saw the pears, and decided (because I'm a crazy person) that this was the PERFECT time to peel, chop, and cook this produce.
Fortunately (or unfortunately, really), the pears had already gotten too gross to use. But the apples were still ok. So I peel, chopped, and started cooking the apples.
That was two hours ago, and I'm still up, waiting for the apples to cook down enough for me to call it baby food.
And call it a night.