A Day in the Life of a Food Blogger
While no one out there confuses food blogging with glamour (at least we hope not), there are those of you out there with colossal misconceptions of what we do here at Eating Our Words. Most of us are not full-time bloggers; rather we have actual jobs and responsibilities galore outside the world of food writing. But some of you are dastardly determined to hang onto the notion that a typical day in the life of a food blogger looks a little something like this...
Daily dose of sliders from Little Bigs.
10:47 a.m. -- Time to get up already?
Wha...? Feels like I just went to bed. Throat dry, head hurts, why is that jackhammer outside yelling at me. I'd like to stay in this shame cave forever, but people citywide are counting on *me* to report the latest-and-greatest culinary must-haves. I cannot let them down! Plus, it's time for sustenance. I think I know the perfect place...
12:15 p.m. -- First Lunch at Beaver's
Ahhhh, Beaver's. The peanut butter to my jelly, the green eggs to my ham, the snap-crackle to my pop. I muster as much energy as the hangover allows and wave to all the other food bloggers sitting nearby. Cheerio! They're munching on burgers and fried chicken, but I go for the Spam-Wow sandwich with a side of mac-and-cheese. My meal, of course, is comped. Damn, it's a good thing I don't have a job, because then there'd be no time for my...
2:37 p.m. -- Second Lunch at Yelapa
Life is good. Reeeaaaal good. I slap Chef L.J. a big high five as I pass through the kitchen on the way to my regular seat. He gives me a wink to let me know I don't even have to look at the menu, and shortly thereafter plate upon plate of tacos, guacamole, and cebiche show up at my table. There's no doubt about it: I am an eating machine. My meal, of course, is comped. Time to drive around aimlessly until...
4:35 p.m. -- Afternoon snack at Little Big's
Everyone smiles as I breeze in to order my sliders -- they're comped, of course -- and I grab a picnic table on the deck. My trio arrives faster than a Monday, and I dive right in. Hey, look! A new pulled pork slider... Maybe I should write about it for the Houston Press. You know, I'm starting to figure out why people keep staring at me. It's definitely my brilliant good looks. That, or the clever mudslide of Sriracha dripping down my chin.
5:00 p.m. -- Cocktails at Anvil
I show up to Anvil right as they open. Yesssss, first customer of the day again! *SCORE* [fist pump / jazz hands] I realize I have a post deadline coming up soon -- I'll just pencil something down about my latest unique adventure at Anvil. Or Yelapa, maybe...? My Pimm's Cup, of course, is comped.
7:24 p.m. -- Dinner at REEF
Snapper, ceviche, and shrimp... Dang, if eating were an Olympic sport, I'd be Michael Phelps. As I wait for my dessert, I jot down my thoughts on Bryan Caswell's quest for world domination. I postulate that he will attain it by the end of this fiscal year -- no one beats Caswell in an Awesome Contest. No one. I wonder if I should try something new after dinner tonight. Nah, I'll just go...
9:37 p.m. -- Back to Anvil to close out the night
Hey, those guys are hot. I wonder when they finish high school. Damn it, this Gin Gin Mule is rotting my brain! Social skills much deteriorated. Cerebral fluid has been replaced with bourbon, Scotch and cask-conditioned ale. Not gonna make it. Tell Mom I loved her. If only I could be drunk all the time.
2:00 a.m. -- So long, farewell...I cascade out the front door under my own power, though I actually feel half dead. Why did it have to end? A single tear rolls slowly down my face. The pain, my God, the pain. Oh, well. At least I get to do THE VERY SAME THING tomorrow.