My New Addiction
Okay, I must confess. I've got a new addiction. Is it illegal drugs, you might ask. No, of course no. Smoking? No. Drinking? Hell no. Yuck! Yuck! Yuck! One of those Yahoo mini games? Nooooo. It's cooking for the hubby.
You see, for the past two weeks, my life has resolved to nothing but want ads scanning, cover letter and resumes rewriting and submitting, other than when I ponder, "What should I make for dinner tonight" (and occasionally, what can I get from Blockbuster today :). Don't I wish hubby's paycheck is fat enough so I can be a full time permanant kept woman. :~( But that belongs in a different entry.
My friend B said I've became "domesticated." I don't like the term "domesticated." It sounds so... demeaning to women. My friend E thinks I enjoy cooking. She couldn't be more wrong. If I have unlimited monetary resources AND always able to find a decent place that serves my craving, I won't be cooking. Most of the reasons that I cook were because I cannot count my enjoyment of food in the hands of others. Why pay exorbitant prices for something that I can make just as good or even better at home?
Aren't you contradicting yourself, you might ask. No, no, no. I didn't say I'm addicted to cooking, I said I'm addicted to "cooking for the hubster." What's the difference, you asked again. My, don't we have a curious mind. Let me give you an analogy. Most people don't really enjoy going to work; they merely enjoy the moment they receive the paycheck, or at least the moment they are blowing away their paycheck. My joy came not from the preparation of food, but hubby's excitement when I make him his favorites. His eyes will light up and his face glows like a golden retriever just saw his owner picking up a ball and a stick.
This particular joy does come with some sacrifices. First of all, I have to give up some of my favorite Chinese cuisine, including but not limited to squid, sea cucumber, thousand-year-old eggs (Yeah, same kind they served in Fear Factor. Were I on there I'll be asking for a second serving). After all, I have no heart to ask hubby to have dinner, Fear Factor style, after he came home from a long day of work. :~( But for that look of his, everything is worth it. :)
[Some truth has been distorted or exaggerated for the smooth flowing of this entry. All complaints and request for "correction", with the exception of typos or spelling errors, will be disregarded.]
You see, for the past two weeks, my life has resolved to nothing but want ads scanning, cover letter and resumes rewriting and submitting, other than when I ponder, "What should I make for dinner tonight" (and occasionally, what can I get from Blockbuster today :). Don't I wish hubby's paycheck is fat enough so I can be a full time permanant kept woman. :~( But that belongs in a different entry.
My friend B said I've became "domesticated." I don't like the term "domesticated." It sounds so... demeaning to women. My friend E thinks I enjoy cooking. She couldn't be more wrong. If I have unlimited monetary resources AND always able to find a decent place that serves my craving, I won't be cooking. Most of the reasons that I cook were because I cannot count my enjoyment of food in the hands of others. Why pay exorbitant prices for something that I can make just as good or even better at home?
Aren't you contradicting yourself, you might ask. No, no, no. I didn't say I'm addicted to cooking, I said I'm addicted to "cooking for the hubster." What's the difference, you asked again. My, don't we have a curious mind. Let me give you an analogy. Most people don't really enjoy going to work; they merely enjoy the moment they receive the paycheck, or at least the moment they are blowing away their paycheck. My joy came not from the preparation of food, but hubby's excitement when I make him his favorites. His eyes will light up and his face glows like a golden retriever just saw his owner picking up a ball and a stick.
This particular joy does come with some sacrifices. First of all, I have to give up some of my favorite Chinese cuisine, including but not limited to squid, sea cucumber, thousand-year-old eggs (Yeah, same kind they served in Fear Factor. Were I on there I'll be asking for a second serving). After all, I have no heart to ask hubby to have dinner, Fear Factor style, after he came home from a long day of work. :~( But for that look of his, everything is worth it. :)
[Some truth has been distorted or exaggerated for the smooth flowing of this entry. All complaints and request for "correction", with the exception of typos or spelling errors, will be disregarded.]
posted by cahalan @ 01:29
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