Just eat it.

One of the first things that I had to learn quickly when I skedaddled out of my mother's house was to get unused to having my meals prepared for me. At my place, there is no well-stocked GE refrigerator or a cook manning the kitchen. What I have is a weeny little Samsung fridge that's four feet tall and often has hardly anything in it apart from water, tired vegetables and cheap cuts of meat. Sometimes I will pity myself and buy a bit of steak, but that means cutting back on other household supplies, like toilet paper, for instance. This is how I know it's possible, with utmost concentration, to blow one's nose or wipe one's privates on two squares of toilet paper.

As I still have a little more than a week to go before I can take a trip to the supermarket (so the charges on my credit card will be billed in July), I am in a period of creative starvation. This means I am now making meals out of whatever meat is still in residence in my frost-covered freezer, and the wilted veggies in the bottom shelf. Today I made a stew out of beef that used to be red but had lately turned brown, and tossed in baguio beans that were more yellow than green. Tomorrow I intend to dice a badly-wrinkled carrot into a meatball soup. Ick.