January 22, 2011 § 1 Comment
Whence, I wonder, my desire to be domestic? My best guess is that my subconscious panicked that I would never be able to survive by my wits alone and pulled out all the Betty Crocker stops in my brain, so that I could learn to stitch and soufflé and snare a rich husband by eyeing him coquettishly over a slice of my homemade banana bread. This would also explain my birthing hips*.
Since I don’t need a super-lot of credits to graduate, I’ve been taking a lighter courseload. This, combined with being unemployable, gives me lots of spare time. But since I go to a school where an aversion to batshitloads of homework is outré, I’m left making frequent and awkward jokes about my second major in Home Ec. Only, I’m not joking! Kind of! I actually really enjoy learning this stuff. Searing meat? Fascinating! Gluten development? TELL ME MORE.
*No, it wouldn’t, because they don’t exist.