"It's the little things." People say that, but I don't think anyone really understands what it means. It's one of those aphorism that we have been repeating for so long that we don't know its origin or meaning. It is nonetheless true. After all, it stuck around for a reason.
So I'm giving up, not on the grand cosmic scale, but just one of those little things. I'm giving up cooking. For years I've bullied and guilted myself into it. "It's healthier, cheaper, better for the environment. If you learned to do it, you might actually learn to like it. Oh, come on, it's not that hard. Don't be so lazy." Blah. Blah. Blah. But you know, in all these years, it's never been anything but a headache. I enjoy cooking exactly one thing - potato soup, and that's only because I get to share it with half a dozen other people. (You never make a small batch of potato soup.) What few other things I do in the kitchen without grumbling (coffee, ramen, toast, frozen pizza) don't actually qualify as cooking, in my opinion.
Therefore, I am no longer going to struggle against my nature. I shall henceforth become a takeout queen. I am cleaning out my kitchen, tossing the already too old to use produce left over from my last attempt (which never got off the ground), clearing out my spice rack of all but the bare essentials, even ditching my bulk items (bought over a year ago and scarcely used). I am washing my dishes, scrubbing my sink and stove, and clearing my cupboards one last time. In the future, the edibles in my household shall consist of milk, cereal, yogurt, and baked goods (which I did not bake). Whatever lingering guilt I may feel about disposable containers and individual packaging will be offset by the overripe bananas, moldy bread, and rotting leftovers which in the future shall not go to waste.
I already know how to eat on a budget, and healthier than I do at home. I know that a family sized pasta order from Pizza Hut is six to eight meals for me. The day old bagel bin at Brueggar's plus a tub of cream cheese can feed me for three days. A container of fruit from the Coffee House and a mocha are enough calories and caffeine to keep me working through a late night at the paper. The yogurt, fruit, and granola parfait at Panera makes a much more healthy breakfast than my coffee only staple. The pesto cavatapi and Caesar salad at Noodles and Company are a good balance of veggies and grains and the Brueggar's spinach omelet bagel with cheese is high in protein.
I am at peace with my decision, however, I will continue to look favorably on boyfriend applicants who list cooking as one of their hobbies and I am prepared to tip generously.