I almost titled this post "Bored".
And the thing is, we've been doing it the other way for so long that I lost track in a chicken-or-the-egg kind of way of which came first, food or wine, and I'm almost surprised at my malaise. Only in its absence do I now appreciate how the wine-matching part imposed a discipline and set the bar higher; after all, the two courses (I always serve two) needed to work together since they had the same wine in common. Without the wine, there's a sense of challenge that's missing. And where went the challenge, so went the sense of accomplishment in getting that match right.
Of course now I look forward to weekends even more, but I loved the festivity that wine gave to weekdays as if they weren't really weekdays.
Wine and food together made every day of the week equal: every day was special. Every day became like the Saturday nights of my childhood when the best cuts and the fanciest dishes were saved for the only day my roving father would be home, when we would all eat together as a family and Dad's dour moods were mellowed by the Cribari Chianti jugwine that was the only wine ever served in our home.
Not having wine on a Tuesday night takes me right back to the "not tonight, honey, it's a school night" days.

Inevitably, enthusiasm will return. Like my cats, I always land on my feet. But gosh, for the moment, it's just a little quiet around here.