Unless something truly dreadful happens at LuthorCorp tomorrow (and yes, I'm living dangerously just by entertaining the possibility), the worst of the week is behind me. I spent my first 40 minutes home from work emptying the fridge and scrubbing the shelves with boiling water and grease-cutting soap, all the while assuming the working-in-tight-spaces position I have come to call Fridge Pilates. Now the fridge is clean, and I am sleepy, full and happy, thanks to the new Thai restaurant in my neighborhood and the incendiary glass noodle salad I ordered for dinner. It's time to plan for the Grand Day In on Saturday, which will be spent in the company of the lovely Julie, herself a bakerina nonpareil. We are still trying to decide exactly what we'll be making, but consider the following to be a general hint:
ve