Well, it's dinner time and I find myself in a house with no food (none belonging to me and of the dinnertime persuasion, anyway). This is, of course, due ot a complete lack of foresight on my part, but this self-awareness ain't going to fill my tummy. And so it looks like I'm having a can of soup and possibly some pasta. Mmm. There are some bits of salt and pepper squid in the freezer, but I'm a little concerned about how good for me deep frying is. Anyone want to weigh in?
Soup. It's what's for dinner.
Tomorrow I have to go on the unappealing search for undergarments that I can wear with very particular outergarments without said undergarments being immediately noticable. Sigh. When did getting dressed require so much effort? I am not expecting much success, especially in light of recent bad moods.
But as the Mr Whippy van finally decides there are no more kids on this street and moves on, I hear the jug has boiled, so it's time to whip up some culinary brilliance. Then I'm going to tempt fate by watching "What Lies Beneath". Before bedtime, no less.
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