Boring as fuck. And endless. Like pushing a stone up a hill. You know. That story.

July 23, 2019

The weirdest thing about living with mom and doing all the housework and all the cooking is that you have to think about and plan what you’re having for dinner every night.

I used to just stop for happy hour on the way home. And when I worked late, there was always happy hour from 9 to midnight somewhere. Or McDonalds. Or I ate Thai with friends a lot. Usually, someone was going out for dinner or drinks after work somewhere.

I never had to grocery shop and think and plan what I was going to have for dinner. When I shopped I just put whatever I wanted in my cart. I didn’t bother looking at the price. It didn’t matter. I didn’t think in terms of making complete meals. I just ate this and that and whatever the fuck I wanted.

Even when I was in Louisville, and I was poor, I just grabbed something off the pantry shelf when I was hungry. Like soup. Or I made tuna fish. Or I had a piece of cheese. Or a Banquet .88 cent pot pie. I never thought about cooking and what combinations of things I’d put on the dinner plate. And the Limbo had $2 Titty Tiki Taco Tuesdays. Burlesque night. I always went with friends. They had happy hour every day from 4 to 7. I ate happy hour all the time.

I can’t imagine doing this meal planning business and having to take care of kids. How in the fuck do people do that? And then working, too? And I have never done so much laundry in my life. Every day, like three loads. Blankets and towels mostly. What the fuck? At least they’re easy to fold. Except for fitted sheets. OMG whoever invented fitted sheets should be put up against a wall and shot.

I don’t know. Good thing I wasn’t a stay at home person. That’s all I gotta say. It’s hard work and it sucks. Boring as fuck. And endless. Like pushing a stone up a hill. You know. That story.