my chewing inability is ruining my life. i’m running out of campbell’s and progresso soups to try and i’m sick of them anyway. tired of mush. sunday night, matthew and i were at the market buying some food, and i ended up with the aforementioned soups, macaroni, several cups o’ noodles, fruit jello cups, and applesauce. and i told him later that i felt like i owed the cashier an apology, or an explanation, like, "…i’m not proud of this bounty," or, "i’m shopping for a homeless person and a fourth grader."
i intended to take most of it to work as “lunch,” and i proved an utter failure monday when i tried to “make” said cup o’ noodles, and ended up pouring scalding hot “chicken” water all over myself in front of the janitor. how does one fuck up cup o’ noodles, you ask? how does one prove his ineptitude at cooking and life and just being a person when the recipe is just add water? let’s count the ways. or let’s don’t, and let’s agree that the fact that ‘ways’ is plural is proof enough.