So I said this was going to be a quieter week.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.

Anyway.

This was not a quieter week.

It was more like 100 meetings, 1,000 inquiries, and 100,000,000% no time for my brain to simply relax. I fooled myself. You know when you're doing one thing but thinking about all the other things, and then suddenly you're standing in the middle of the shop holding a roll of labels and wondering if you already ordered the small boxes?

That was me. All week.

I love what I do. I do. I do. But sometimes owning a food business means your brain is basically a laptop with 3% battery and yes, I always forget my charger. And no matter how many times you close things, there's another email, another inquiry, another packaging question, another "quick" decision that somehow requires a full board meeting with myself.

The “quiet” week that absolutely was not

The week started with work, then continued with work, and occasionally took a little work break so I could think about more work.

On top of the meetings and inquiries, I had to figure out what packaging needed restocking. Which sounds simple, right? It is not simple. It becomes a whole mental escape room. It fries my brain. The amount of packaging I go through on a weekly basis even blows my mind. And you know what? It's not even recyclable or compostable, which right there gives me anxiety. I just can't afford it right now. I'm not doing bad, but I just can't make my clients pay for it. And yeah, I feel shitty for asking them to pay for that, but also changing pricing is a nightmare.

Do we need more boxes? Which size? How many lids? Are those the food-grade paper ones? Did we already order those? Is this the supplier that sends the cute little labels or the one that sends the labels that peel off in the emotional equivalent of a rainstorm?

We also had a drop-in food inspector show up this week, and it is always so nerve wracking. Everything is always changing, so I am never in the loop — and have you met me? Good news: we passed. We do love Mark. But man, I am always convinced I'm doing something wrong. That's the anxiety talking, probably.

Restocking in general became my personality for a few days.

Thankfully, I got to deal with two of my sales reps, who are both quite lovely humans. This is important to mention because when you spend several days making decisions about quantities, shipping, packaging, and inventory, a nice person on the other end of the phone can feel like a tiny warm cup of emotional support coffee.

And yes, I know I should probably have had a spreadsheet.

I probably did have a spreadsheet.

Was it updated? Let’s not get carried away.

If you’re planning a gathering and need food without adding “assemble a grazing table while answering emails” to your own to-do list, you can count on us. We do our best to make the food part feel easy, even when the rest of life is behaving like a raccoon in a dumpster.

Fresh hair, fresh-ish brain

I did get my hair done this week!

And I needed it.

I was starting to look a little ratty, which is a technical term I’m using here. You know when your hair has crossed from “casually undone” into “have you been sleeping in a hedge?” I was somewhere in that zone.

So I got it refreshed and came out looking like a person who had plans. A person who drinks enough water. A person who knows where her keys are.

None of those things are necessarily true, but the hair was fresh and that counts for something.

Sometimes you have to take the tiny wins where you can get them. A haircut. A decent meal. Finding your phone when it’s already in your hand. Getting through an entire meal without someone asking you a question while you’re chewing.

Luxury.

Rice crispy treats and the rare family activity

I also made some fun rice krispy treats with George, which was honestly a very nice little break from the usual chaos.

There’s something about making rice krispy treats that feels almost suspiciously easy. Melt the butter, add marshmallows, stir until everything becomes a sticky cloud, throw in the cereal, and suddenly you’re a pastry chef on a cooking show with a tiny studio audience.

The only downside is that rice krispy treats somehow get on every surface within a six-foot radius.

Counter? Sticky.

Spoon? Sticky.

Your elbow? Probably sticky.

The dogs? Emotionally sticky.

But we had fun, and I’ll take that. It was one of those small moments that made the week feel less like a giant conveyor belt of emails and more like an actual life.

The pants tag incident of 2026

Now let’s talk about the only DoorDash order I had this week.

I would like everyone to know that I made dinner Monday through Thursday. Skipped Friday, ate real meals Saturday and tonight. Somehow. I ate vegetables. I ate lean meats. Maybe some pasta. I was nourishing my body like a woman who had her life together and not like someone who once considered a granola bar found in a tote bag to be dinner.

Then Friday happened.

I bought a pair of pants. I was going to wash them. Very responsible. Very adult. Very “I am caring for my belongings.”

And then I noticed the stupid plastic tag thing was still attached.

You know the one. The security tag that can only be removed with a magnet or some kind of retail wizardry? The pants were already in my hand, probably five minutes away from being thrown into the washing machine, when I realized I couldn’t actually wear them because they were still technically under store surveillance.

So I had to drive back.

Then I had to stand in a line of 13 people.

Thirteen. I counted because it was the last place I wanted to be on a Friday afternoon.

Not twelve. Not “a few.” Thirteen people, all standing between me and freedom, while I held pants with a plastic tag attached like evidence in a very boring crime documentary.

Nightmare.

By the time I picked George up from school, I had used the last of my millennial battery. So yes, I DoorDashed dinner. I regret nothing.

The Costco shrimp platter understood the assignment

My true lifesaver this week was a Costco cocktail shrimp platter.

So good. So easy. So much protein. And around $18 or something, which is a price point I can work with when I’m trying to feed myself without turning every meal into a 90-minute production.

I like quick and easy. I want to open the fridge and see something I can eat in approximately 45 seconds. I don’t want to chop seven vegetables, make a sauce from scratch, or discover that the recipe requires one tablespoon of an ingredient I will never use again.

The shrimp platter was already prepared, chilled, and ready to go. Grab shrimp, add cocktail sauce, maybe throw together some vegetables, and congratulations: you have made a meal while barely participating.

Honestly, if Costco wants to put “for people with too many meetings” on the label, I would support that.

It also reminded me that food doesn’t have to be complicated to be good. Sometimes you need a beautiful grazing table with hand-selected cheeses and cured meats. Sometimes you need a platterbox that lets you slide everything onto your own board and take all the credit. And sometimes you need cold shrimp standing between you and a drive-thru.

All are valid.

Donuts, SailGP, and a little competitive suffering

I grabbed donuts from Kim’s and Donut Shack yesterday morning, because obviously. I’m not going to pretend I’m above a donut when I am very much not above a donut.

There’s something about bringing donuts into a busy week that makes everyone suddenly nicer. People are smiling. Someone says, “Oh my god, what kind is that?” and for approximately four minutes, nobody is asking about packaging counts.

I also watched SailGP Geneva. Spoiler alert: we did kind of meh.

Then I watched again today, because apparently I enjoy voluntarily putting my nervous system through a high-speed emotional washing machine.

Meal prep at the shop

I started meal prep yesterday at the shop so I could get a head start on today, because apparently Past Me briefly became someone Future Me could trust.

Here’s what we made:

- Chili

- Sundried tomato and Boursin angel hair pasta with chicken cutlets

- Roasted veggie quinoa and lentil bowls

- Double chocolate zucchini bread

- Funfetti overnight oats (I know a great dentist if you’re in the market for one.)

That menu is doing a lot of emotional heavy lifting for me right now.

The chili is cozy and dependable. The sundried tomato and Boursin pasta is creamy and feels like a hug wearing a little Italian scarf. I even went home to make some for the fridge later. The quinoa and lentil bowls make me feel like I have a wellness podcast. The double chocolate zucchini bread lets me pretend dessert is a vegetable. And the funfetti overnight oats are basically breakfast wearing a party hat. We gotta remember to celebrate.

Having food ready to grab because when the week gets busy, the difference is between eating something decent and eating crackers over the sink. No judgment if you are a crackers-over-the-sink person. I have been there. I’ll be back this week. Life is cyclical.

Anyway, we survived

So that was the week that was supposed to be quiet.

I’m tired, obviously. My brain is still running around like a toddler who found an espresso machine. But I’m also grateful. Grateful for the work, grateful for the lovely people who help keep things moving, grateful for George and our messy little rice krispy treat project, grateful for food that makes busy weeks easier, and grateful that sometimes dinner can be a Costco shrimp platter and still feel like a win.

And if you need catering at the last minute, yes, Graze does accept last-minute orders with just a few hours’ notice when we can make it work. We’ll figure it out. Probably with a spreadsheet.

I feel like all I do is complain, but running a business is hard sometimes, with personal stuff happening behind the scenes. So I’m just saying — for anyone running on empty, whether you have a business, or you’re a parent working a million hours, or you have a demanding job: I see you. I feel you. You wanna talk? I’m down.

Honestly, this week was really hard for me. I don't know what it was. Maybe the quiet afternoon pockets of time gave me too much room to think. Life was lifing. It's hard to be an empath in this world right now. When things get heavy I tend to shut down. So yeah, it was a rough emotional week. But I'm an emotional person, and I don't even care when I'm being like that.

Today I caught myself trying to peek into the future. Like, where am I actually going to end up? Who's still going to be standing next to me? Are the big dreams I keep manifesting ever going to show up, or am I just out here vibing on hope? And then it hit me. If I looked back a few years, I never would have guessed I'd be living the life I'm in right now. Not even close. I couldn't have pictured any of it. So maybe not knowing isn't the scary part. Maybe we're not supposed to have the answers ahead of time. Maybe our only job is to just live it as it comes and let the pieces land where they land.

Until next week, people.

Eat something with protein. Take your vitamins. Wash your pants tags before attempting laundry. Get the haircut. Buy the donut.

And maybe put on something that makes you feel like the main character, even if you’re just standing in line behind 13 people holding pants.

And how am I doing it? Still no effing idea, but I do. Signing off for deliveries in the morning and a full week of catering. Might be closed Saturday, but it’s worth it to make someone’s day special.

XX,

Abby

Song of the day: Noah Cyrus-July

We love an emotional release and also Noah in general. Sleep well my little doves.