This summer I drive an ice cream truck. To say the least, I have an imaginatively long list of food-inspiration that begins and ends with, well, ice cream. But along the way there is a–forgive any loss of meaning that this overused term has struggled with–classic.
Can’t resist: presto, pesto!
I found out today that I do my best thinking when I’m driving by myself. It’s my spring break. And like a fool, I decided to work in research lab so I’ve been driving down to Seattle a lot this week. I’ve had some revelations, I tell ya.
Instance #1: Planes are freaking cool. They are these heavy chunks of metal flying in the sky that take us places. Humans aren’t supposed to fly. That’s why we don’t have wings. But we found a way to do it anyways. The human mind is a marvelous thing.
Instance #2: I planned out what I want to say in my personal statement for med school. Shoot… I better write this down before I forget it.
Instance #3: Shrimp and pesto taste pretty darn good together… also pesto and pizza… SHRIMP AND PESTO PIZZA.