Here’s the thing.
Sometimes I get wild hares (what does that MEAN) up my you know what and do a lot of cooking to have on hand so that some nights when I’m exhausted I can just drink wine and watch crappy TV and not cook.
But then on those nights I end up wanting to cook anyway because it’s the closest thing in my life to meditation and I love it.
So I have all this premade food.
And then I make more food.
And then, I go out of town, and Jay eats enough of said premade food for four dinners for two people in a weekend.
And doesn’t take pictures of any of it.
It’s a rough life, folks.