Somebody needs to get back to the land of AIDS and civil war. I spent two hours shopping for food and cooking today and then through a Betty Crocking hissy fit when I realized we have no garlic salt in the kitchen.
Then the my girlfriend the steady income-earner got home tired and not immediately interested with my domestic baking struggles. And like some self-sublimating nightmare of Betty Friedan's, I gritted my teeth and told her to take a load off.
Oh, you look tired. Would you like a drink? Just relax and turn the TV on while I get you one.
Then, once she was comfortable, I passive-aggressively hinted at all the chores I did that day and nagged her about her general exhaustion.
Someone find me a non-functioning (preferably imploding!) state with outside-the-Matrix-quality food. Soon please, before I start reading People and carrying on conversations with the grocery store bag girls.
