◊(Local Yarn Code "Artifact [f8b27b20]")

Artifact f8b27b20379fe2139b0ca417fac5fbef80a06ae26022b2111443bc9ae0997484:


#lang pollen

◊; Copyright 2003 by Joel Dueck. All Rights Reserved.

◊(define-meta published "2003-03-10")

If you had told me a month ago that I would actually rather starve than cook a meal for myself,
I would not have believed you. But having been plunged into a life of bachelorly self-sufficiency,
I find that it is not that hard to get from not liking cooking to simply skipping the meal
altogether.

It goes like this. I come home from work and go upstairs. Now, I might like a nice meal, I say to
myself. (If I were normal I would merely think it to myself, but more often than not I end up saying
it aloud.) But, what should I eat? I immediately consider the path of reasoning that leads to the
most desirable end: a hot, tasty meal. However, a number of obstacles immediately leap out from
behind my visionary steaming casseroles and boiled vegetables. It takes too long; I’d rather not do
that many dishes afterwards; I have hardly anything in the cupboard because I’m too cheap to buy
things I know I’ll never cook anyway; and most of all, I hate cooking.

So much for that idea. But now, I’ve got to have something else. The only alternatives to cooking
are cereal and sandwiches. But I’ve just had a sandwich for lunch, and I’m starting to get sick of
having cereal. From this point it is only a trifling logical hop to thinking that, of course, the
simplest thing would be to just not eat. I’m not that hungry anyway (it’s always either that or I’m
more tired than I am hungry), and it would probably make the next meal taste better, and I would be
saving money anyway. So after a few links in a simple line of reasoning, I have arrived at such an
aberration of thought, that the Darwinians might despair of my genus being around for many more
generations.