Every night, I’m plagued by the same question, what am I going to make for dinner? When you live alone, cooking for one is not so enticing. If someone makes you a meal, you can taste the love in the preparation. When I’m just cooking for myself, I know there’s no love in it. Sometimes, I don’t even know what’s in it. I just slop things together and hope for a winner.
It’s the same routine every night. Around six o’clock I meander in the kitchen and look in the cabinets, and then the refrigerator for something to whip up. I realize the ordeal is going to take close to an hour, even if I just stick a frozen dinner in the oven. I’m always slightly hungry, so I snack on something like cheese and crackers. It never fails, after that, I’m not hungry for any dinner. Then I go watch tv for an hour, hoping that my appetite will return and give me some time to think about what I want for dinner. Maybe I’ll see a soup commercial and be like, “Oh wow, I didn’t even think of that.” That’s easy. I won’t even have to chop anything. Hell, I don’t even have to open the fridge. ...
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by Jeff Charlebois