I've been in my new room for almost a week and I must say that I really love the privacy that I have. The whole floor is basically mine though my landlords usually use the basement for exercise and all that.
I must say that even though I'm getting a nice supper almost every evening (though not tonight nor tomorrow), I really wish I had my own kitchen. On a day like this with the snow falling so quickly and the wind being so fierce, it would be perfect to try to make my dad's Arizona chicken and then think up a version of my own, to see if I can make it better. And afterwards I would make myself a nice jell-o parfait for dessert.
Alas, this is not the case.
Upon walking home from work tomorrow, I'll most likely drop by the Co-Op and get a nice Ceasar salad (Probably the only salad I'll eat) with a soda and if I'm feeling generous towards maybe a small dessert (or pudding as Marco White and Gordon Ramsay would refer to it as).
Hopefully in maybe three months or so I can find my own place and things will be different. But in all honesty things could be worse. The kids don't cry that much, the dog never barks and if I want time to myself, it is given to me.
Just wish work could get better. How do they expect me to get there for 6:15 when the bus doesn't even run at that time?