Tuesday, February 8, 2011


Did I say?
Sunday night.

Rushed out with my meagre (sp?) reminents (sp?) of money in a desperate hope that I might find bread, but sadly this was not the case.  I did find butter and one packet of croissants, so not a bad swap, but doesn't last as long.  One meal in fact.  But I get to eat tonight at my sisters, so that's okay.  And I get paid tomorrow so everything is fabulous.  And the shops reckon there will be staples back on the shelves tomorrow or the next couple of days, so that is even more fabulous and I am considering actually attempting to cook something from a receipe to celebrate even though I am a very bad cook.

So ... what's easy and can be cooked in a small electric frypan?

*embarrassed coff*

Have I mentioned I have a rental inspection?  And you know how crazed I get before rental inspections - I am also working all weekend, so all my panick cleaning is going to have to happen in the evenings after work - and this just isn't going to work, cause I dither like a mad thing and it usually takes me a day and a half to stop panicking and actually start cleaning - and in fact I usually do the bulk the night before instead of sleeping, so ... please forgive the insane panicked babble that is going to dominate this blog in the upcoming week.  I know it is silly, but I can never adopt a systematic sensible attitude to these things.  I hate rental inspections.


  1. the insane panicked babble that is going to dominate this blog in the upcoming week.

    Looks like I started reading at the right time.

    Y'know, some people I've known wouldn't even bother tidying up for a rental inspection. God, I'm glad it's something I don't have to go through anymore.

  2. But they probably aren't as extremely messy as I am.

    When my mother had dinner parties, she'd wait until people had consumed a couple of drinks and then take them to look in through the door to show them just how lucky they were with their children.

    They would return with a wide-eyed look of awe and horror.