I would like to state now that I highly object to this early Easter situation.  Why can't Easter fall on the same Sunday each year? 

However, my objections to this holiday's somewhat premature arrival will by no means damper my culinary game.  Let's talk Easter food. 

I am sitting here in my tiny breakfast nook, a nearly empty teacup beside me, and the microwave beeping loudly, signally the arrival of a lunch break which I likely will not take.  Working lunches are my life and I like it that way.  The large window before me reveals the fast-falling snow and my brain giggles at the irony of a fresh snowstorm juxtapose the arrival of spring.  I cannot say that I mind these white, fluffy flakes.  As I stare at them, they begin to appear in synchronicity with the bouncy notes of Handel that play in the background.  Sabine, after finally giving up on her efforts to eat our carpet, sleeps at my feet and I bask in the perfection of this moment.  In the background of the current peacefulness, the pangs of anxious anticipation loom, and I find myself refreshing my inbox every five minutes in hope of relief.  Life is never wholly perfect, but sometimes, it comes delightfully close.