I hate to have a temper tantrum on my blog, but the only other option is screaming profanity and throwing pans off my deck. Writing can calm me down so I will give it a try. I really do try to make light of my kitchen “issues”, but to be honest they have caused me serious distress. I despise the kitchen, even thinking about cooking something can set my anxiety off. I have tried a few times to overcome my fears and it usually ends up with food no one will eat, a fire alarm going off and/or a burnt pan or two.
Once last summer the fire alarm was wailing so I just took the fried cookie sheet holding who knows what to the deck. I forgot about it all and found the pan out there three weeks later. I threw it away.
So by default, I became a fast food junkie. Every night we would drive through some where or eat cereal and I was happy. But fat. So the healthy life style started and unless I want to eat smoothies every meal for the rest of my life I figured I would have to learn some cooking.
I was excited this time… I had a purpose, my new found healthy body. But my first attempt (which I tried to frame positively) ended up with burnt Quinoa. Then the burnt sweet potatoes that set of the fire alarm last night and the burn Oatmeal tonight. Which, despite myself, brought me to tears.
So I yelled at my kids for asking “why” I burnt the stupid oatmeal and now Abby is crying and so am I and writing this did not help me at all except make me more upset. So there you have it.