In days of yore, I set up this blog to learn to cook. As a 16 year old, it felt like a critical step - before stepping out into the big, bad world and flying the nest, it seemed pretty important to be able to cook. What a grand plan.
Now though, I'm sitting in my room, in a university residence, trying to decide whether I can be bothered to cook some instant noodles, or if I'd be better off just chucking some soup in the microwave. Truthfully, neither option is particularly appealing, That said, actually cooking is even less appealing. I live in a catered hall, so only have to fend myself for Saturday and Sunday evenings but by mid-afternoon on a Saturday the kitchen is an absolute state. Safe to say things aren't exactly as I envisaged before coming to uni.
In general, I wouldn't say that I'm the world's tidiest person - it would be closer to the truth to say that I would live in an absolute pigsty if I didn't force myself to keep on top of things. That's only in my own, private space though; there are 40 of us on my floor, with 1 kitchen between the lot of us. Frankly, I think that I owe it to the others to leave the place tidy, but so many others don't share this opinion. Mum used to despair at home because I would leave a trail behind me - I could follow the Hans-and-Gretel-esque trail of debris to find out where I'd come from. Helpful, really. Those days are behind me (HONEST, mum!) and now it's just my bedroom that is the occasional bomb site because surprise, surprise there are other people who use the rest of the house (/hall facilities) and it's not reasonable to expect them to put up with my mess.
Mind blown. What an idea. Revolutionary. Ooft.
Why is this such a hard concept? Space in the kitchen here is pretty limited, considering how many people have to use it. Fridge space is at a premium, and even then, it's not guaranteed that your food will remain untouched, since some people see fit to steal, and then leave a mess behind themselves. It's not my proudest moment, but I genuinely cried last year when I discovered someone had opened and used up my food. Seems stupid now, but I'd just come back in from a Brownie meeting and was looking forward to a cheese sandwich. Haute cuisine, right?!? Some lovely person had opened my cheese, and eaten 3/4 of it. To add insult to injury, they left the bag open (in a fridge with goodness knows what else inside it), and someone else's milk spilled inside the bag. By the time I got to it, it was turning green and smelled absolutely rank. Needless to say, I was in a great mood that evening...
It's funny how something so silly can have an effect on you though - a bit of common courtesy in places like this never goes amiss, especially when you have to spend months living with the same people. Yes, I used to protest when told to tidy up by mum, but she was just training me up, so that when I left home I didn't turn in to a thieving, deceitful pain-in-the-neck with no respect for other people. Instead, I've turned in to a slightly deranged ranter who would rather sit inside on a Saturday evening and complain about cooking [- better option??? Possibly not!]
I'll definitely start cooking again at some point. But not here, with food stains and disgusting fridges. For now, I'll stick with my best pal, Mr Heinz, and his top quality tinned goods.
Now though, I'm sitting in my room, in a university residence, trying to decide whether I can be bothered to cook some instant noodles, or if I'd be better off just chucking some soup in the microwave. Truthfully, neither option is particularly appealing, That said, actually cooking is even less appealing. I live in a catered hall, so only have to fend myself for Saturday and Sunday evenings but by mid-afternoon on a Saturday the kitchen is an absolute state. Safe to say things aren't exactly as I envisaged before coming to uni.
In general, I wouldn't say that I'm the world's tidiest person - it would be closer to the truth to say that I would live in an absolute pigsty if I didn't force myself to keep on top of things. That's only in my own, private space though; there are 40 of us on my floor, with 1 kitchen between the lot of us. Frankly, I think that I owe it to the others to leave the place tidy, but so many others don't share this opinion. Mum used to despair at home because I would leave a trail behind me - I could follow the Hans-and-Gretel-esque trail of debris to find out where I'd come from. Helpful, really. Those days are behind me (HONEST, mum!) and now it's just my bedroom that is the occasional bomb site because surprise, surprise there are other people who use the rest of the house (/hall facilities) and it's not reasonable to expect them to put up with my mess.
Mind blown. What an idea. Revolutionary. Ooft.
Why is this such a hard concept? Space in the kitchen here is pretty limited, considering how many people have to use it. Fridge space is at a premium, and even then, it's not guaranteed that your food will remain untouched, since some people see fit to steal, and then leave a mess behind themselves. It's not my proudest moment, but I genuinely cried last year when I discovered someone had opened and used up my food. Seems stupid now, but I'd just come back in from a Brownie meeting and was looking forward to a cheese sandwich. Haute cuisine, right?!? Some lovely person had opened my cheese, and eaten 3/4 of it. To add insult to injury, they left the bag open (in a fridge with goodness knows what else inside it), and someone else's milk spilled inside the bag. By the time I got to it, it was turning green and smelled absolutely rank. Needless to say, I was in a great mood that evening...
It's funny how something so silly can have an effect on you though - a bit of common courtesy in places like this never goes amiss, especially when you have to spend months living with the same people. Yes, I used to protest when told to tidy up by mum, but she was just training me up, so that when I left home I didn't turn in to a thieving, deceitful pain-in-the-neck with no respect for other people. Instead, I've turned in to a slightly deranged ranter who would rather sit inside on a Saturday evening and complain about cooking [- better option??? Possibly not!]
I'll definitely start cooking again at some point. But not here, with food stains and disgusting fridges. For now, I'll stick with my best pal, Mr Heinz, and his top quality tinned goods.