So on Sunday my good friend Becky came to stay. We went for a run, we had dinner and we laughed at humanity on the X Factor. I put Ina’s dinner theory to good use. I did a quick rocket, mozzarella and salami salad to start, prepped a tagine to whack in the oven in advanced, baked a coffee and walnut cake and baked some figs last minute. It all adds to effortless entertaining, well done Ina.
The students have returned next door. Well, it’s like Big Brother really, they change every year but it always ends in two of them snogging, many tears being shed and inappropriate levels of drinking on a Tuesday. They had a party Sunday night. I mean, a Sunday?! I don’t care on a Saturday. I don’t mind a Friday but a Sunday? Odd. Have already heard one act of loud masturbation. All very unacceptable.
After a day of turmoil at work, with all redundancy talk and streamlining jargon, I skipped the gym. The guilt levels went through the roof. I must surely be catholic in ancestry, I have the guilt down to a T. I came home and made a chile con carne for tonight. It truly is a fortunate thing my anxiety is relieved by cooking. Means tonight I can double gym and the. Just preheat to gas mark four, shove it in, boil some rice and appear a culinary hero. Quids in. Ina taught me about forward planning. She would high five me, or something mildly uncool. And I’d love her more for it.
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