Baked Cod back at Boston Market.

So I went there today to have some. After today (Ash Wednesday) they will only be serving it on Fridays, and then only through Lent.

Baked cod with tartar sauce… southwest rice… steamed veggies (carrots, broccoli, zucchini)… cornbread… and I had a coupon for a free dessert (because I completed an online survey they sent me) so I chose the carrot cake with that yummy, gooey, too-sweet icing.

My only complaint is that the piece of cod they serve you is too small. It should be about 30 percent bigger, in my opinion.

I got there at 11:30 and spent about a half hour there. Carl was not working at that time, apparently. I only saw some rather tall black guy going back and forth between the kitchen and the serving area.

Better luck next time.


Tomorrow is my birthday, but I’m really not feeling in the mood to celebrate.

I was wondering if John was going to contact me and offer to take me out to dinner for my birthday. I didn’t know which I dreaded more — him taking me out, or him not doing so.

So far I haven’t heard from him, though. Since our Christmas dinner at Boston Market, we haven’t interacted at all, except for a couple brief comments on Facebook.

He did post that his medical bills (from his broken arm last October) have reached $4,000 and are still mounting. And that’s what he has to pay despite having insurance! Ouch. He said he was going on some financial “austerity” program so he can start chipping away at those bills — cutting his budget down to the bone. So maybe that’s why he hasn’t offered.


In trying to turn on my ceiling fan last night — I was hot — and not quite being able to reach the chain, I had a little mishap which ended in my smashing the second toe (“this little piggy stayed home”) on my left foot pretty hard. And boy, did it hurt. Still hurts some today when I try to wiggle my toes. I hope nothing’s broken. But it’s not affecting my walking at all, so it’s probably OK.