How does porridge make one upset
I'm such an emotional creature?
I don't know, it's the stupid things. I don't get affected very much by relationships and work, I think I'm adulting pretty well in those parts, but when it comes to stuff, just STUFF, I get so stupidly upset.
I cooked a whole lot of porridge yesterday afternoon. It was supposed to be lunch and dinner for Watermelon. I had a little bit of it, but I had a dinner appointment so Watermelon was supposed to finish the porridge on his own.
When I came back home from the dinner he told me there was a little bit left, I said I'd eat it for breakfast the following day.
Breakfast time, and I open the pot to see there is A LOT left, and by the way it smells, I don't think I should eat it.
I am wildly upset. I hate wasting food, I hate wasting food that I cooked, I hate having food go bad when it could've been prevented.
(My mum's trick to keep a pot of porridge/soup overnight on the stove top: bring the porridge/soup to boil, boil several minutes, switch off the fire and DO NOT TOUCH IT. Don't stir it, don't even move it. I don't know if there's scientific evidence for this but it's worked so far, i.e. there's never a weird smell or anything.
And my husband knows this is the MO for keeping food safe in our house, he's a scientist, he's mentioned how it does make sense when you think about how bacteria is killed, he knows what he's supposed to do when he just leaves food there.)
I'm sure some of my anger is directed at him, but this doesn't feel like anger, it feels a lot like pity. Yes, pity for the food. I am so weird, I'm so freaking weird, someone save me from myself. I just feel bad that it didn't get eaten, that all those animals died for nothing, all that money we spent on it (spinach isn't cheap this season), GAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.
I don't even want to enter the kitchen right now because it means I have to look at the pot.
My husband calls me his crazy wife. I think it's 100% justified. There is a lot of fodder for fiction here, I'm just going to escape into that world now, thanks.
I don't know, it's the stupid things. I don't get affected very much by relationships and work, I think I'm adulting pretty well in those parts, but when it comes to stuff, just STUFF, I get so stupidly upset.
I cooked a whole lot of porridge yesterday afternoon. It was supposed to be lunch and dinner for Watermelon. I had a little bit of it, but I had a dinner appointment so Watermelon was supposed to finish the porridge on his own.
When I came back home from the dinner he told me there was a little bit left, I said I'd eat it for breakfast the following day.
Breakfast time, and I open the pot to see there is A LOT left, and by the way it smells, I don't think I should eat it.
I am wildly upset. I hate wasting food, I hate wasting food that I cooked, I hate having food go bad when it could've been prevented.
(My mum's trick to keep a pot of porridge/soup overnight on the stove top: bring the porridge/soup to boil, boil several minutes, switch off the fire and DO NOT TOUCH IT. Don't stir it, don't even move it. I don't know if there's scientific evidence for this but it's worked so far, i.e. there's never a weird smell or anything.
And my husband knows this is the MO for keeping food safe in our house, he's a scientist, he's mentioned how it does make sense when you think about how bacteria is killed, he knows what he's supposed to do when he just leaves food there.)
I'm sure some of my anger is directed at him, but this doesn't feel like anger, it feels a lot like pity. Yes, pity for the food. I am so weird, I'm so freaking weird, someone save me from myself. I just feel bad that it didn't get eaten, that all those animals died for nothing, all that money we spent on it (spinach isn't cheap this season), GAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.
I don't even want to enter the kitchen right now because it means I have to look at the pot.
My husband calls me his crazy wife. I think it's 100% justified. There is a lot of fodder for fiction here, I'm just going to escape into that world now, thanks.