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The Listlessness of Shame

31 Jul

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I don’t want to talk to my friends anymore, and this is where I wish some of you did not know me and that I might have had the foresight to have been more anonymous. But there it is.

Today is a hard day.

I don’t really know what went wrong or how it happened. I just know that it has and that I don’t feel very well. 

This is where I wrote an awful lot and then deleted it.

I thought about different ways to paint an ugly and ridiculous and sad situation. 

I thought I could tell you that I am simmering chicken necks and organs with the end of a celery and a bit of red onion because I was being crafty. 

I am not being crafty.

I am hoping that I can make a little bit of stock and that in making said stock – brown rice will be palatable. I am making this because I don’t have anything else I can make.  I am making it because I have the parts to things but no complete parts of any one thing that I can make.  

A few weeks ago, a really uncool troupe of ants made their way into my cabinet, and somehow got into all sorts of my things, all of which had to be thrown away and are yet to be replaced.  I am even out of baking soda.

I have brown rice. Bad coffee. Chicken necks.

Two necks and a couple of hearts I think. It is an odd handful of things to have, I know, but when I roast a chicken I freeze the parts if I do not have something they can be thrown in right away – for stock, gravy etc later on.

I hate cooking rice. Loathe it. I detest it – even though some people would think its silly.  For some reason – unless it is slathered in something, when I make brown rice it always seems to turn out bitter somehow. (I’ve rinsed it! – three times in the hopes of washing away the bitter.)

I keep telling myself that I just need to get through a little longer. I just need to hang in there until this day or that day, because things will get better. Today is just hard because today was the day I was hanging in there for, and it went wrong somewhere, and now tomorrow is the day I have to hang in there for – but each extra day is just harder and harder.

But you will pretend with me, wont you? That cooking with bones and guts is cool in this case, and has nothing to do with pride or being pathetic in general yeah? 

One more day. Ish.

 

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Posted by on July 31, 2013 in Uncategorized

 

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