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{ it's my heart you take }
Food is not worth the hassle of cooking. It really, seriously isn't. And before people start in all "M you have a food problem" I'd like to say (a) I know that and (b) it's not that I have an eating disorder because I really don't, it's more that I just don't like food. On that note, please understand that there was much hilarity as I tried to cook the spices to add to my pasta. Seriously burnt and now you can't go into the kitchen without burning your lungs. Yeah, that bad. Not cooking again for at least two days. Too much trauma! Heh, it's funny to hear people coughing though. The flatmate and I keep yelling "BREATHE SHALLOW!" and people try to test the air by breathing deep and then the two of us freak out all, "We said BREATHE SHALLOW!" It's quite funny.
The day has been so long and tomorrow will be just as bad except I'm going to come back to halls between the lecture and work. I have to go read Moll Flanders now and then I have to read at least two pages of Fantomina. Tomorrow I need to type up LTC2 stuffs. You know, LJ has just become one great big to do list for me, hasn't it? Heyzeus. Carrying on in the same vein then, I need to do that Barthes presentation before Friday and I should probably write up my hist. lit. notes before the weekend. You know, I'm supposed to be at Talking Heads right now. SIGHDOM.
So, this evening: hist. lit. notes, Moll Flanders, Fantomina. [And if I'm good, Grey's Anatomy!] OK. Go!
ETA: I promise, promise, promise to go through all your LJs soon and be a good commenter. I promise.
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(I totally messed up today though because I was doing my usual masala - that I've done a hundred times before - and I just screwed it up and it all burnt into the air. Hence "breathe shallow").
For the record, "what happens when [you] get married" is exactly my mother's response to everything I say these days. Heh.