Why I Don't Cook

Cooking. Something I wish I wanted to do, but deep down inside I just don't. I mean, maybe I would want to cook if I were rich. I could go to the market (I would call it the market because I was rich).  I would buy whatever I needed and cook an amazing dinner. But then again if I were really rich, I would just have someone cook for me. l will try and be more realistic. Maybe I would cook if cooking were fun and not so boring or so much work.

I really need my own Mary Poppins  to follow me around in life. Someone who will make a chore fun. Someone who will take every day tasks and tell me, "Emily, this task is about to meet a spoonful of sugar."( Get it? A spoonful of sugar makes the medicine go down in the most delightful way.) Oh I would be excited! I would sit back and clap and wait for the magic! Boring meet AMAZING!

So how could cooking meet it's "spoonful of sugar?" The Mary Poppins in me had a few ideas.....opera, rat pack, or maybe a little Italiano music? How about a super cute apron that makes me feel like I actually know what I am doing? How about a hot man assistant? How about a little wine- because wine makes everything fun! All of these things together sound like one heaping spoonful of sugar to me! Ok, I feel like I am mis-leading you. Everything I have written makes it sound like I am going to turn a new leaf and cook. Well that is absolutely not the case! In fact, I have decided to provide my own top ten list of reasons why I do not cook.

Before I provide you with my list, let me make you aware of the true events that inspired this blog. I bought a hot new shirt. I wore it to work and felt all hot and stuff. I didn't have any plans after work, but I wasn't ready to take off my shirt because I loved it so much!

Dinner time came around, and I decided to put a burger on the stove. I decided I would get a little crazy that night and cut a slice of fresh cheese and melt it on top. This is me taking cooking to the max! I eat my bunless cheeseburger with a smidge of BBQ sauce, and then Disturbia! I looked down and there were grease spots on my brand new shirt. I stripped my shirt off immediately, and to no avail I tried to resuscitate it. It was ruined, but I still couldn't bring myself to throw it out. I only got to wear it once! It was such a short but blissful love affair.

I searched far and wide for another one; on the Internet and in several different stores in the Denver area, but alas no shirt. I was soooooo angry when this happened. In fact my initial thought at the discovery of the grease spot was...."This is exactly why I don't cook!"

So, TOP TEN REASONS WHY I DO NOT COOK

10. Cooking means you have to actually plan your grocery trip- I don't make plans.

9. Cooking means more dishes to wash. Washing dishes dries out your hands. I already live in Colorado.  Plus lest us forget dirty dishes sitting in the sink- they taunt me!

8. Cooking usually involves chopping. Who do you think I am Rachel Ray? Chopping is hard.

7. Cookbooks make me feel stupid. They have recipes with titles that sound delightful, but the directions are written in a foreign language that I did not learn in High school or College.

6.  Cooking makes me second guess myself. "Cook on Medium High until Browned". This command makes me forget that my Stove has a Medium, it can't be that hard to find Medium High? And then it gets worse. I start to panic and forget what color brown is. "Is this brown? Wait did they want it to be light brown, medium brown, or dark brown? Gosh, maybe it was supposed to be medium high brown?"

5. Spices stress me out. If you cook, you should know what spice goes well with what flavors. What spices you don't mix. I do not know any of the above. All I know is Tony Chachere's.

4. The pressure. What if it doesn't taste so good.

3. If I began to love cooking and love food, this could be a bad thing. A real bad thing for the size of my ass.

2. Cooking could be depressing. Single lady spending time cooking. Lots of leftovers. No one to share with. Loneliness sets in. The ass gets it again....it just won't stop expanding.

1. It ruins things. My ass, my waddle, my confidence, my self-esteem, and most of all my HOT NEW SHIRT, among other things!