Retrospective Cooking

At almost 23 years of age, I feel like I have learned so much. Cooking, for one thing, is something I am way better at than I used to be. I have come to this conclusion after reading backlogs of my blog that I kept junior and senior year of college.

I must repost it. It is buried too deep for people to go looking for it and I’m so proud of how far I’ve come

This is a true story. No exaggerations. I’m really this pathetic

Eggs, Sunny-side Up

10:00am: Damn, I’m hungry!

10:11am: Still really hungry. I don’t think this feeling is going to go away on its own.

10:13am: Honeynut Cheerios for the 4th day in a row? I don’t think so. Search for the Bisquick

10:16am: No Bisquick. Aaaaaall righty, then. Cheerios it is.

10:17am: No. You know what? You are a 20 year old female. There are women having babies now for Christ’s sake. You can make an egg, dammit. Yes, you are going to make yourself an egg. What the hell, why don’t you make it two eggs. Dream big, Chrissy. Dream big.

10:20am: Google the shit out of this fucker.

10:24am: Adequately googled and researched. I’ve got this.

10:26am: What the hell is “medium heat”?! Who do they think I am, Betty Crocker? You’re talking to Miss I-Have-Problems-Boiling-Water! You’re going to have to give me a little more than that!

10:28am: I’m just going to leave it on 6. That looks like a good number for cooking things. I’ll just let it heat up. In the meantime, TOAST! Yay toast!

10:31am: They said use butter…hmm, don’t usually do that, but it said so on google so…butter it is! Throw it on in there and watch it sizzle. Ooo. Lookit sizzle *claps hands together*

10:32am: Egg-cracking time. I’m good at this!

10:33am: Fuck fuck fuck. There are shells in the pan. Fuck fuck fuck

10:34am: Okay, crisis averted. Eggs cracked. Toast done and cooling next to the butter tub. I shall have eggs, sunny-side up in no time!

*the stupidity of Chrissy begins its magic*

10:43am: How can the yolks be cooked all the way through and still be cold?

10:44am: So hungry! I’ll eat the toast. I can always make more

10:45am: Fuck. Fuck my life. Fuck your life. Fuck all of this. Throw these away, throw my entire self-esteem away and let the ants eat it all. *sobs*

10:47am: I am soooo hungry! Okay, back to square one. Google.

10:49am: I think I’ve got it this time.

10:51am: Fuck the butter. I am Paming the shit out of this pan.

10:52am: One egg at a time, Chrissy. One egg at a time.

10:53am: Go make my sorry ass some more toast.

10:56am: Okay. The white are solid-ish and the yolk looks cooked, yet still runny. Okay. I think this one is done.

10:57am: Crack the other one on in there. Shells? Shells? No shells. *pat self on back* So far so good.

10:59am: Aw, hell. I think my stomach is eating itself. Who the fuck cares? *eats first egg while second is cooking*

11:00am: Nom nom nom *eggs sizzle* Shut the hell up! Nom nom nom

11:01am: Second one done…I think. Well, if not, Salmanella, meet my intestines!

11:03am: Nom nom nom

11:04am: Those were pretty damn good, I must say. Maybe I should make cooking a career.

No?

You don’t think so?

Well, fuck off!

***

Mouthy little screwball, wasn’t I?

I need it to be said that I am now a master at making sunny-side up eggs. I can even put two in same pan at the same time.

I know, right? It’s amazing. I am an impressive person

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