I’ve been working on a dish without a name. For a while I didn’t even realise that I was working on it. Let me tell you about it.
The whole United Kingdom is far too warm, and boy we are complaining about it. It’s not like we don’t like hot weather, it’s just that we don’t want to live in it.
I do not know what everyone else does with their time if they’re not planning meals, shopping for food, cooking meals, or eating them. I wish I understood what banalities these people filled their lives with.
A man is being manly with me. He is an alpha male, inviting me in to his group. I mutter and I stutter. I cannot make eye contact, and I should stop staring at his teeth.
I have a bugbear. It turns out that I absolutely hate it when people are anticipating – or attempting to anticipate – my needs.