Sometimes I really hate cooking, like this evening for instance trying to cook sausages and failing miserably. Despite the fact 80% of the split sausages was a very crispy black, I still somehow managed to miss that crucial 20% until everything was smothered in ketchup and part of that crucial first bite.
It's safe to say I won't be going any where near sausages for a while. It's times like this I wish I had someone around to hand me a cup of tea and then whip up something fabulous for me to munch before I disappear all together. Heck I would even settle for my mum's cooking.
Now would normally be the time I fall on the bread and eat my own weight in toast but I've run out! :(
It seems the food god's have turned against me. I may have to settle for gnawing on my own elbow or worse brave the kitchen again in search of something nutritional.
Or I could always go back to bed....
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