It has been raining heat here. Literally.
i feel like a polar bear walking in the Sahara, on top of that there is this silly strike going on by the food traders. And as would have been expected of me, i had absolutely zilch eatables at home and all, i mean ALL, the restaurants, kiosks, everything were shut.
i used to think i was borderline anorexic or bulimic.
Realisation: i am healthy fat girl, though clueless about cuisines, can eat food without throwing up. And, i LOVE cheese!
The strike is very reminiscent of the strikes in Nepal that my cousins talk about. Anyway, i decided that since i couldn't eat, i might as well shop and i ended up ordering a Sailor Moon skirt, a Sailor-like tee and a multi-coloured satchel.
To top it off, i had recurrent nightmares of someone eating something really sinful very slowly like a pasta dripping with cheese or pork sausages dripping in their own lard with a bowl of sliced strawberries and cream, while i am trapped in a glass cage clawing like a rabid dog.
Ah! those three days were sheer agony. And i celebrated their end by deflowering my virgin kitchen. i bought a cutesy tiny cooking pan, 3 gothic-looking ladles (totally unnecessary, knowing i will probably cook and eat with the same spoon) and a giant pack of chicken cocktail sausages, some pre-cooked pasta and lots of butter.
i cooked and ate. i cooked and ate. Without stopping. Even for a minute.
i feel like a polar bear walking in the Sahara, on top of that there is this silly strike going on by the food traders. And as would have been expected of me, i had absolutely zilch eatables at home and all, i mean ALL, the restaurants, kiosks, everything were shut.
i used to think i was borderline anorexic or bulimic.
Realisation: i am healthy fat girl, though clueless about cuisines, can eat food without throwing up. And, i LOVE cheese!
The strike is very reminiscent of the strikes in Nepal that my cousins talk about. Anyway, i decided that since i couldn't eat, i might as well shop and i ended up ordering a Sailor Moon skirt, a Sailor-like tee and a multi-coloured satchel.
To top it off, i had recurrent nightmares of someone eating something really sinful very slowly like a pasta dripping with cheese or pork sausages dripping in their own lard with a bowl of sliced strawberries and cream, while i am trapped in a glass cage clawing like a rabid dog.
Ah! those three days were sheer agony. And i celebrated their end by deflowering my virgin kitchen. i bought a cutesy tiny cooking pan, 3 gothic-looking ladles (totally unnecessary, knowing i will probably cook and eat with the same spoon) and a giant pack of chicken cocktail sausages, some pre-cooked pasta and lots of butter.
i cooked and ate. i cooked and ate. Without stopping. Even for a minute.
