I’m Spoiled…
I know, I really shouldn’t complain about being spoiled, but I am going to anyway, because this is MY blog and I can mmmmm k?
So I have a new roomie. His name is Chad. We met a long time ago when we used to work together at a call center. We ended up sharing a cubical, and later he stayed in my apt for a few months. I love Chad (not like that - he’s gay) but he was a slob, and well, I am kind of a neat freak in MOST parts of my house so he moved out. He went off to culinary school and with an executive chef badge in hand, he is back. So I said he could stay with me and help me out with rent. He’s a lot tidier than he used to be so it’s ok, and we actually have a lot of fun. It’s kind of nice having a man around to do the “manly” things. The problem is he’s an amazing chef. I know you are thinking so what’s the problem right?
I never thought I would ever say this… but I am spoiled, spoiled, spoiled and I don’t know if that is a good thing. Last night I came home from work to find homemade chicken tortilla soup waiting for me for dinner. Last week he made filet mignon for BREAKFAST! The week before that he made Steak, with grilled asparagus, and I have had everything from braised pork ribs to escargot. A few weeks before that he made chicken Kiev for my cousin and I. Tonight he is planning to make gnocchi, and for dessert homemade berry tarts. I know I shouldn’t complain but what happens when he moves out? I can see myself now, hopelessly looking at the box of dusty Mac n cheese in my pantry longing for some of Chad’s epicurean delights. I will probably just sit in the floor and eat crackers straight from the box and cry. How can I ever go back to top ramen and lunchmeat sandwiches?
I am forever ruined and it’s all Chad’s fault!
Ummmm, care packages? Tupperware waiting for you daily at your door? You have to make arrangements girl! Or, you know, get him to move to the flat across from yours or the house across the street and just give him all your cooking appliances. Just make him promise he’ll cook for you from then on and stuff. Like on Friends where it was an unspoken rule that the “chef” of the group cooked for all of them.
You were ruined before Chad, stop whining and send me your leftover pantry items..
J
if by some chance, you misread that as “panty” instead of “pantry”, well that’s ok too.
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