I just spent twenty minutes composing the perfect comment for a friend's blog. Ironically, the blog was about not wanting to cook dinner. Ever. And as you may note, right this minute it is dinner time. And you may also note that I am not currently fixing dinner. I'm posting on my blog.
With every word I type, every phrase I write, the minutes tick away and bring me closer to the dreaded moment that I began considering before I even got out of bed this morning. The moment when I confess that I don't want to fix dinner. I think about it before I even eat breakfast. What will I fix for dinner tonight? Usually, I have no answer to this query. Even immediately after I return from the grocery store, I have no answer. Right this minute, there is hamburger thawed in the fridge. There is a recipe book open on the counter. All the ingredients are waiting for me, all I have to do is get up out of my chair, walk up the stairs and into the kitchen, and cook the dang meal.
But you know what? That ain't gonna happen. BLEH. That's about all I have to say about that. BLEH. BLeh. blEh. BlEh. (Oh great, now I'm getting all eloquent, and nobody wants that...)
(But please don't advise me about the crock pot, or the weekly menu, or the planning ahead. What I really need is a maid and a cook. A hot tub would be nice, too.)
Little Caesar's, here I come! I'll probably stop at Krispy Kreme on my way home.
2 hours ago