on Saturday night i had dinner (and a hearty whinging session) with cousin Paul and his girl.
feels a bit sorry to poor girlfriend who has to listen to me dissect my.. rather numerous issues.
anyway one of the topics was cooking.
i like it.. sometimes. or when i'm cooking for others occasionally.
but to get down and dirty in the kitchen for every freaking meal just makes me eat ChocoPie instead.
or ice-cream. or waffles. or popcorn. or fruits.
or-- do i really need to list out what i'm poisoning myself with or have you gotten the picture?
'start small,' Paul advised. 'start with sandwiches.'
which is lovely in theory because i adore bread.
but what happens is i buy bread and some salad leaves and cheese.
(i don't cook meat because i'm a bit rusty at that and i drink soy milk daily so my protein levels will go off the roof if i cook meat in addition to that. meat is my eating-out-special-occasion food.)
in my fantasy, i make a healthy sandwich prettily (both myself and the sandwich) then consume it in delicate bites.
i get hungry.
i ignore it and continue surfing the net.
i get hungrier.
i decide to make a sandwich after finishing this one last video.
starvation mode sets in.
i run to the kitchen both because i'm starving and freezing, grab the bread, slap on butter and jam or Guylian spread thickly, and eat a bloody 'sandwich' in like 4 bites while standing at the counter.
this is the trend, which means by the time i finish the bread (and the jam) i still have an unopened packet of salad in my fridge, along with the cheese.
deep long sigh.
when will i start living like an adult, really!