I’ll try being nicer if you try being smarter!

I don’t cook. Don’t get me wrong, I certainly CAN cook, I just don’t.

I claim that I don’t have the time, but this is possibly the biggest load of crap you will ever hear. I go to work, and am home around 6 PM. After that, I have nary an obligation in the world. I live alone, and am accustomed to living in my own filth, so I don’t have to clean up. Since I don’t cook, I have no dishes to wash. I only get one channel, so it isn’t like I have a stellar evening of television lined up that will keep me from the kitchen. I don’ t even have a fucking goldfish that I need to feed.

I come home and I do nothing. I feel this is appropriate and excusable, since my job makes me want to shoot people and tricks me into thinking my head is always 3.8 seconds away from blowing up. It’s a good balance, my insane work day/doing nothing at home thing. Work tires me out, I take it easy. Makes sense.

I therefore have about 6 hours to make myself a meal each night. I have nobody else’s dietary preferences to consider, I have nothing to schedule the cooking around. I don’t have to share the kitchen with anybody, nor clean up their mess before I can start making one of my own.

The fact is, I’m a lazy fucker. LAZY.

I usually feast on spaghetti, or a lovingly prepared frozen dinner. Even then, the tray winds up on my counter, it doesn’t even make it to the garbage.

LAZY (see above).

Tonight, I decided to break from the norm. I thought I’d shake it up a bit. Rediscover my inner Nigella (that sounds dirty).

I didn’t want to go too crazy, so I chose something simple. A pre-cooked, pre-marinated, pre-packaged, perfectly proportioned chicken breast. All I had to do was plop it in a frying pan, heat, and voila. Okay. Done.

So Mr. Chicken is doing his thing on burner A, while I fire up burner B to use to make some of my gastronomic specialty……..spaghetti.

As I wait for the water to boil, I wash a few dishes that were in the sink from the fiance’s visit this weekend. I start to smell something funny. It smells like melting plastic, but not quite. I crank open a window to air it out.

I poke around the stove, making sure nothing plastic is resting on either of the burners. Please note that I don’t have a light in my kitchen (yeah…..), but I’m pretty sure that there’s nothing there. I open my fridge to use the light in there to help me see (yeah……) and it seems to be all good.

I shrug and continue doing dishes. The smell intensifies. Hmmmmm. I wash a fork. Then suddenly, I hear the unmistakable ‘POP’ of ignition.

Annnnnnnd we have fire. Oh joy, oh joy, my kitchen is on fucking fire.

I am instantly thrown into a fit of deja vu, where I was 12 and got the paper towels a little too close to the burner. Those fuckers are flammable, let me tell YOU.

After reliving that tragic childhood memory, I realize I need to do something. I freak out, then grab the pot of water and chuck it into the sink. Right. Because using the water to pour ONTO THE FIRE would have been too smart. I think I didn’t do that because I was worried it was maybe a grease fire, from the fiance cooking during the weekend.

I hesitantly turn my back on my wee bonfire to grab some flour. I will smother it! I turn back around, armed with some good old All Purpose Baking Flour only to see the last few flames flickering out. Turns out, it’s windy tonight and since I’d cracked the window, it blew out the little flamey bastards before they had a chance to take hold and destroy my life.

Shaken but hungry, I refilled the pot of water and placed it on burner C to boil the damn water. Burner C starts smoking instantly. Turn Burner C off. Transfer pot of water to Burner D, turn Burner D on. Burner D also starts billowing smoke from under the pot.

Turn off Burner A, which has been happily cooking my chicken this whole time. Swear. Dial Pizza Nova. Order medium pizza. Write blog, while waiting for pizza guy to show up. Remember to never attempt cooking again.

Edited after Josh’s comment: I have NO idea what caught on fire. I called the fiance and asked him in an accusatory manner what he had done. He feigned ignorance. I’m going with grease splatters from his chicken adventures.

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Comments on: "Microwave meals were invented for me." (10)

  1. So what exactly caught on fire? I mean, what’s the deal man? There was nothing there to catch on fire to begin with right? And why is there no light in your kitchen? WTF? And why don’t you like cooking? Cooking is fun. Everybody loves cooking. Cooking is one of the most social and happy activities you can do. You know, people gather in the kitchen preparing a big meal, or hang out around the grill drinking beer and cooking meat and vittles. And how can you sit around all evening doing nothing? Surely you do something right? I know you knit and blog and occasionally enjoy crazy lesbian liasons. (at least that’s what Em said) Don’t you get bored though? With no cooking and no activities? It boggles my mind!

    This post leaves me sad and confused. But I really am sorry you had a bad evening, and sorry about the fire thing. On the plus side, pizza! Woohoo!

    Josh, please look slightly above and see the edit, which states that I have no idea.
    Second, please stop spreading lesbian rumours about your girlfriend and I.
    Third, I have no light in my kitchen because the second day I moved in, the bulb burned out. I can’t reach it and have no draggable furniture that I can use to stand on and change it, so I just open my fridge.
    Four, ‘gathering’ in the kitchen isn’t possible when it’s 5 feet squared.

  2. That was Goddess’s way of saying “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it”. In other words, stay with what you know…takeout is safe. You need your rest! 😀

    Tonight I went with a plain old ham and cheese sandwich. Efficient, yummy, and stove-free. Obviously, I doused it in mustard.

  3. whatigotsofar said:

    Ordering pizza, great idea. I ordered a party size for myself on Sunday. Having it has leftovers made up for all six meals of Monday and Tuesday.

    But Pizza Nova, really? That stuff is barely tolerable.

    Whoah dude, you did NOT just diss Pizza Nova. That’s it. We are so not friends for the next 5 minutes. I LOVE Pizza Nova. What? You probably eat Pizza Pizza right? Pft. I scoff at whatever your pizza choice may be.

  4. “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it”? That doesn’t make sense because apparently you don’t fix what IS broke, going by the burned out light bulb and various other things you’ve mentioned on your blog. I think you should just break more things. Because, well, why not? Not everything is gonna break itself now. And maybe when you start breaking things on purpose your luck will turn around. I have no idea what I’m talking about. It’s been a long day.

    Ha, fixing stuff is overrated. Gotta learn to adapt! It’s true, I rarely fix things, but I would replace this lightbulb if I could. I just can’t.
    Breaking things on purpose? Oh, there’s a few people things on that list already.

  5. Wow, mystery fire, it’s almost intriguing. Like an X-Files episode or something. Kind of freaky though, spontaneous combustion of non flammable things is usually either a sign of evil supernatural forces or being drunk.

    Next time you have the man in town you should have him hoist you up on his shoulders so you can change the bulb. often people forget that men are basically ladders. And kitchen gatherings are always possible, always.

    He did offer to do that, but I always feel guilty using him as a ladder.
    I too thought of the spontaneous combustion angle. And I decided I was happy that the stove ignited and not me.

  6. i’m dying from the imagery here….although i’d freak out if this happened at my house. basically, i avoid cooking at all costs.

    the closest i came to a kitchen fire was lighting MYSELF on fire while cooking. the sleeve of my sweater went up like a torch and, freak that i am, i WAVED my arm in horror. this succeeded in making the flame billow into a raging conflagration on my arm. i stuck flaming arm in sink and ran the water. problem solved and no major damage done.

    Yeah, I’d wave my arm too. I mean, what else are you going to do? Look at it? Hells no! I’m flapping it like there’s no tomorrow! I’m glad you weren’t burnt to a crisp and junk. 🙂

  7. Fire! Yay!

    w00t!

  8. I love how my boyfriend comments twice before I even show up to read 😛 He covers for me!

    See, if I had been there, I would have told you to keep it going while I went downstairs for marshmallows. But this is also why my mom took all my candles away when I was a kid.

    She probably should have taken away the matches too….

  9. LOL uhhhh it’s ok to laugh a little right? You guys crack me up ..you write this shit so funny a crisis and tragedy is hard not to laugh at.

    so we still don’t know what caught fire?

  10. whatigotsofar said:

    I only eat from the independant Italian places. Give Dante’s a call. They’ll pretty much deliver to any part of the GTA these days.

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