And . . .
For all of you that will read my story and ask, but what about the fries . . . Yes, I did turn off the oven and take them out.
Tuesday, May 03, 2005
So I locked myself out of my house this evening . . .
I came home just before 6:00 tonight. That's something that seems to have become kind of standard. The weather is nice, I dart out just before six so I can get a steak from the meat store. That's what happened today. I drove home all excited about the meal I was going to make for myself. Came in as usual, locking the door behind me. Threw my stuff down, turned the oven on for the fries, and went out the back door to start the barbeque. As is my habit, I closed the door behind me.
And that was my critical mistake.
Turns out that when I turned the knob and pushed, to go outside, I engaged the locking mechanism of the door knob. When I turned around to come in, to my surprise, and more to my dismay, the door was locked. And that was pretty much that. I tried the front door but I knew the result that was going to have. I'm obsessive about the front door, so obviously it was going to be locked.
Which brings us to my sock footed walk across town. What choice did I have? Everything I own was locked away on me. Truck had everything locked in, and now so did the house. My only recourse was to walk across town in my socks. Which didn't bother me as much as you might think, because the socks I was wearing are in horrible shape. I have tender feet though, so not all the surfaces I came across were easy on my sensitive soles.
So that is my shame. Feel free to laugh at me, because I truly deserve it. And don't think my heart wasn't in my throat when I bent down to turn of the propane, and my knee nudged the door fully closed again.
I came home just before 6:00 tonight. That's something that seems to have become kind of standard. The weather is nice, I dart out just before six so I can get a steak from the meat store. That's what happened today. I drove home all excited about the meal I was going to make for myself. Came in as usual, locking the door behind me. Threw my stuff down, turned the oven on for the fries, and went out the back door to start the barbeque. As is my habit, I closed the door behind me.
And that was my critical mistake.
Turns out that when I turned the knob and pushed, to go outside, I engaged the locking mechanism of the door knob. When I turned around to come in, to my surprise, and more to my dismay, the door was locked. And that was pretty much that. I tried the front door but I knew the result that was going to have. I'm obsessive about the front door, so obviously it was going to be locked.
Which brings us to my sock footed walk across town. What choice did I have? Everything I own was locked away on me. Truck had everything locked in, and now so did the house. My only recourse was to walk across town in my socks. Which didn't bother me as much as you might think, because the socks I was wearing are in horrible shape. I have tender feet though, so not all the surfaces I came across were easy on my sensitive soles.
So that is my shame. Feel free to laugh at me, because I truly deserve it. And don't think my heart wasn't in my throat when I bent down to turn of the propane, and my knee nudged the door fully closed again.
Monday, May 02, 2005
This is my big complaint about the cooking and eating for yourself cycle.
When its just one person doing the eating, it never takes anywhere close to as long to eat it, as you have to waste making it. And that's even when you do something simple, like eat the leftovers from some other meal, conveniently saved in the freezer.
There is this horrible, sick muted feeling, as the food disappears in about 3 to 5 minutes. And then its gone and you realize that's about as good as its going to get, for sensory pleasures, for that night. All that is left is to deposit the used dishes in the sink, and sigh mournfully as you return, again, to your lonely perch a top whatever piece of furniture you prefer, in your empty, lifeless living room.
When its just one person doing the eating, it never takes anywhere close to as long to eat it, as you have to waste making it. And that's even when you do something simple, like eat the leftovers from some other meal, conveniently saved in the freezer.
There is this horrible, sick muted feeling, as the food disappears in about 3 to 5 minutes. And then its gone and you realize that's about as good as its going to get, for sensory pleasures, for that night. All that is left is to deposit the used dishes in the sink, and sigh mournfully as you return, again, to your lonely perch a top whatever piece of furniture you prefer, in your empty, lifeless living room.