i was looking at my fridge today and realized its been three weeks since i actually bought food. just leftover takeout and expired condiments while all my old friends are posting about promotions and vacations and i'm stuck in this studio, counting the days since i had a real conversation with someone.
i just watched my neighbor repaint their front door this perfect shade of blue while mine has been peeling for months. they hosted a barbecue with friends and i stood in my tiny kitchen, eating frozen food alone, wishing i could afford a damn can of paint.
some days i just sit in my kitchen staring at the leftover pizza from last week, trying to remember the last time i had a decent meal, and wondering if it’s weird that i literally look forward to hearing the ice cream truck because at least then there is some noise in this empty house.
some days i just sit in my kitchen staring at the leftover pizza from last week, trying to remember the last time i had a decent meal, and wondering if it’s weird that i literally look forward to hearing the ice cream truck because at least then there is some noise in this empty house.
why is it that every time i try to cook something new i end up forgetting half the ingredients—like today i made this fancy recipe for a sauce and all i had was vinegar and garlic—now dinner is just a sad bowl of rice with whatever i could salvage from my fridge.