I Can’t Cook

When I tell you I can’t cook…

I’m not exaggerating.

That’s the lasagna I made for dinner. For myself.

There’s no cheese in there.

I didn’t have all the ingredients I needed. And I don’t go to the grocery store more than once a week. Because I find that experience traumatizing.

Also, I don’t have a normal size baking pan thingy. Or most standard cooking supplies. So I use a small foil pan that came with a Home Chef meal I made a few months ago when I bake shit.

I did not trim the noodles to fit the pan.

I couldn’t be bothered.

Hell, there’s not even mozzarella cheese in there. Why should I go all out on the noodles.

I also made Christmas cookies. Again. For myself.

I’ve never watched the Great British Bake Off. Or whatever it’s called. But those don’t look like they turned out quite right.

To be clear, I ate all of this.

I mean, there’s leftover “lasagna.” And, like, two cookies. Which I’ll definitely eat before bed.

But I ate the nearly adequate food I made. Because I have very low standards for myself.

I cook just well enough for me to survive.

I used to cook ok. I managed to feed two entire humans. And a shit ton of their friends. Well into adulthood. And they almost never complained about the quality.

But I’ve relinquished whatever tenuous grasp I had on culinary skills.

Because it’s just me now. So why bother.

I’ve got other skills to maintain in the spaces those culinary skills used to take up.

Like…self-deprecating humor. Maybe just that one skill. But it’s my favorite. So I need to maintain plenty of space for it.

I blame my mother. Obviously. She never invested in the time to find someone to teach me the cooking skill. She was all busy making sure I was strong and smart and independent and empathetic and cared about the world and shit. She forgot to shape me into a domestic goddess. To make me marketable on the Victorian dating scene.

Which is fine. She also forgot to teach me a high tolerance for bullshit, so dating isn’t really a fun activity anyway.

But I haven’t been invited to a single Friendsgiving and I can’t help but think this is why.

It’s either this, or my disdain for large social gatherings.

Because she also forgot to socialize me as a child…

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