I think I have a new theory. Bare with me, this theory is all of ten minutes old, so it may come out a little… lumpy. But I need to write something, so what the hell.
Ok, so I just got home from work, and decided to make myself some dinner (as opposed to the usual, which is grabbing a slice on the way home). At my disposal I had some pretty meagre ingredients; some thawed slices of once frozen pot-roast (Buy-Low had a sale on the big ones; I sliced it into “budget steaks” and froze them, like, three months ago) that I threw in the fridge to thaw a few days ago and forgot about. I hacked up some tomatoes, onions and peppers (those were ok, bought them about 4 days ago) and reached way, WAY back in the freezer and got this frozen lump of a bun which I thawed for about 10 seconds in the nuke-box and then toasted.
I George Forman’d the roast (is that even a verb?) and then dug into the tupperware bin in the fridge that had some cheese in it from about… a month ago? two months? I dunno. I hacked off the spotty sides, figuring the cheese-core was probably still good – that went on top of the then cooked meat, which was covered post-grill with some BBQ sauce which, while ‘fat free’, contains one metric fuckload of sodium.. You know, to that end, Can I digress a moment?
Have you noticed that? That “low fat” stuff seems to consist mostly of SALT? How the FUCK do these people manage to transform SALT, of all things, into anything other than salt? Why can’t we come up with sodium based gasoline? Chris, the last time I dunked my head in the ocean it didn’t taste much like anything, but recently i’ve begun to notice that it’s EVERYWHERE!
So in 30 minutes i’ll either be dead, vomiting or watching the Bittorrent of Lost that I snagged last night. Even money right now on all three. ANYHOW, I’m about to eat this… thing… when it hits me. I say to myself “you know, it’s a good thing I live alone, because if I lived with somebody I cared about, I’d never feed them this crap”. I mean, sure, I’LL eat it, because it’s just my body – which I hate anyhow. All it’s done for me is get saggy and lose it’s hair (though I have a sneaking suspicion one of those symptoms might be linked to meals like this, or the fact that I eat pizza slices for dinner four nights a week).
So that’s when it hit me. We hook up with someone so we can eat better. If I had a significant other here to dine with, I’d never feed her this junk. I’d make something snazzy. Something simple, yet elegant. But since there’s nobody here, I’m left to my own devices.
THAT’S why people get married and get all those applicances as gifts. Because they have to finally start making an EFFORT in the kitchen!
Huh! How about THEM apples.