What's For Dinner?

I hate to cook…and feel completely horrible about it. I will vacuum until my arms hurt. I will do laundry until there is nothing left to wash. I clean toilets until they sparkle. But I loathe the thought of cooking a meal. It’s almost embarrassing.

Every now and then (okay…rarely) I do get the urge to spend hours in the kitchen slaving to make the perfect meal. But 9.99995 times out of 10 I cringe just thinking about preparing food. If it were up to me, I would just eat cereal every night. But alas, I am a married woman. And I am married to a man that loves food and cooking, but this time of year he has anything but time to do what he loves. Last weekend he pointed out to me that I used to always have dinner waiting for him when he got home from work. True. When we first moved into our house, it was sort of a nesting thing – cooking dinner for my new husband in my new house. It was fun. But that thrill is gone.

What is not gone is my husbands need for food. Well, mine also for that matter. So, tonight…I will sort through the cow (literally almost a whole butchered cow) in the freezer and fix something. Hamburger Helper, honey? What about Maid Rites? I know…spaghetti. That is easy. Is it obvious that I am feeling guilty?

I'm a People Watcher

I think it’s in my genes. I know that my dad does it – people watch. And the view from my office is outstanding. It is definitely one of the best places to see the finest Terre Haute has to offer. People are funny. What they do and what they wear in public – oh my!

Like I said, I see it all from my office. It amazing what people will do when they think no one is paying attention - scratch their butts, pass gas, pick their noses. And it’s not a specific type; no stereotypical person that does these things. I’ve seen drug reps, dressed up in their expensive suits and almost too short skirts sneak a pick when they think no one is looking. My favorite is watching a couple very quietly argue back and forth as to not make a scene. What they don’t know is that I am observing from afar, laughing on the inside.

I try not to criticize or laugh. But really…a 60 year old man with a blue beard? And a white woman with corn rolls – how could I not quietly giggle ? Forget People of Wal-Mart. I could start People of (my place of employment). Over the past 7 months I have witnessed hot pink reindeer PJ pants, 2 different colored flip flops while there was snow on the ground, and a woman wearing a t-shirt that was so long I questioned on whether or not she was wearing pants, shorts…anything underneath?

Don’t judge me for harmlessly spying others. I do those things too. I’m sure you do too. I know there was a time or two that I could have found myself on People of Wal-Mart. Wearing slippers to school and PJ’s to Bowlin’s in the morning comes to mind. Reminiscent to an episode of Modern Family, I once politely said nothing to Matt and let him go out in a pair of 1990’s Nike windpants that were skin tight around the ankles...and everywhere else. I chuckled and tried my hardest not to judge. Plus, I didn't want to hurt his feelings. Luckily, his sister told him that he looked like a fool so I didn’t have to.

Today I come to the realization that I should carry a camera at all times. As my Grandma (and probably a million other people) used to say - it takes all kinds.