Last night, after a tortuous day of not being able to do much, I decided to take back what control of my life was available, and go shopping for groceries instead of going out for a meal. I had a hankering for cheese on toast so spent a few minutes drawing strange looks from the locals sniffing just about every loaf of bread in the supermarket. No dice, they all had that strange sharp / sweet smell that seems to be part of the definition of ‘bread’ round here. Came back with ice cream, yoghurt, tapioca pudding, chocolate chip cookies, milk, salmon roulade, crisps, a couple of salads for lunches and a pizza. Got home, at half the cookies and half the ice cream, put the pizza on and fired up command and conquer. Missed the beeper that told me the pizza was ready, and two hours later realised I had a cold, slightly carbonated lump in the oven (being an american oven it had switched itself off long before the smell of burning permeated the house). Went to bed.
Tonight, I will just go to a restaurant I think!
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