…I don’t really love to cook. There, I typed it. I’m a food blogger who doesn’t love to cook. Will you still read my blog?
It’s not that I hate to cook, I just typically find it tedious and I’m really not that great at it. What I really like to do is eat. You may have noticed this. I love food. Love, love, love. I just really want someone else to make it for me. Is that so wrong?
The real problem: Boyfriend is out of town for four days. Between the existence of cereal and restaurants, I have managed not to have to face the stove as yet. But this will surely change before he returns. I exert a small whimper.
If there’s one thing I dislike more than cooking, it’s cooking alone and for myself. I swear, anything I touch tastes worse than if I hadn’t personally supervised its creation. Maybe I should just cook blindfolded. Things would at least turn out more interesting…
You really notice how much tasks are delegated in a relationship when your significant other isn’t around. K is in charge of the cooking, the laundry (generally), and typically anything technical or mechanical. The flash on my camera wasn’t working yesterday and I had to figure it out by myself when I would have normally handed it to him. Another whimper.
I could continue to tell you about how, since he’s been gone, I’ve needed things off the top shelf, how I embarrassed myself struggling with my tripod, and how I laughed out loud at a song that came on the radio that reminded me of an inside joke we have, but instead, I’m going to go eat some cereal. Sigh.