It's not the actual doing

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It's not the actual doing of cooking that bugs me, it's all the frustration that comes with it. What frustration? The frustration of needing lots of space for all the pots, pans, utensils, the frustration of standing in line for groceries, the frustration of spending the time cleaning the food, cleaning the pots and pans, cleaning the dishes afterward. For what? To feed me. I'm better off in many ways just eating take out or fast-food. I figure if take-out was good enough for the ancient Romans, it's good enough for me. Sure, you probably can't buy a plate of chow mein for less than the 2 bucks it takes to make it, but what you do pay for is the convenience of not needing to cook, not needing to clean, not needing the time to go to the supermarket to shop. Cooking at home only works if you're cooking for more than just yourself. Sure, eating out probably isn't as healthy, but we all gotta die sometime. I'm giving up on cooking. At least until I have someone to cook for, or I get a bigger kitchen.

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