My friends were talking today. They all want to get a house for next year instead of dorm-ing it up again. They want me in on the plan. I want to be in on the plan. I mean, do you fully grasp what getting a house would mean? House=Kitchen! I would be able to cook!
The Problem: I have accepted a resident assistant position for next year.
RA=living in a dorm. without a kitchen.
The Solution: 1. Staking my claim to my own little square of carpet in my friends' house so it'll be almost like I live there too. 2. Offering to cook and...and...and...wash the dishes. Do you see how important cooking is to me? I'd be willing to wash the dishes, an action that I resolutely, without a doubt, absolutely stand in direct opposition to doing.
This way-when my freshmen residents get to me to the point where I begin to hyperventilate but not quite to the point where I begin rending my clothes and pulling out my hair-I'll have a place where I am welcome because I offer food. College kids are such suckers for food. They are waaay easy to figure out that way.
So close to my own kitchen. So close to fulfilling every one of my culinary dreams to my heart's desire.
Dear God,
Why do you dangle these things in my face and say, "No Arielle, not yet"?
Arielle
1 comment:
Actually if you cook, you do NOT wash the dishes. That's the rule. You cook, roommates wash.
Nice blog so far. Keep writing. Good variety of subjects, local color, and photographs. Stumbled here on the Next Blog key.
As far as the dangling choices, it never gets easier. You weigh, you choose, life unfolds. Just choose. Best to you.
The Old Man.
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