It is almost 4pm. The kids will be hungry soon. By now I should at least be thinking of cooking dinner, or better yet actually cooking dinner. But man, I cannot be arsed. Every fucking night. Something healthy, something tasty, something that I actually have ingredients to in my house. It seems such a little thing, but it drains me.

Day after day after day after day after day after day after day…

I used to enjoy cooking. I used to get creative and whip up awesome Thai curries on a whim. But I guess like anything that you feel you have to do, and for which you are solely responsible, the drudgery sets in. Home-maker’s ennui.

I have no idea what the solution is. Maybe there isn’t one. I know I’m just bitching.  It feels good to bitch sometimes.  Anyway, I’m so open to suggestions.

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