1. Decide to cook dinner for your crippled, aging girlfriend.
2. Ask her what she wants (whole wheat pasta with marinara). Walk into the kitchen and pull out pasta ingredients. Decide to get a little high, because you can.
3. Exit the kitchen; enter the bathroom. Do a hit of from the bowl of weed on the counter. Do another.
4. Wash your hands and dry them. Tidy the counter top. Glance in the mirror and note that your hair has gotten long enough to put into a ponytail without it sticking up. Put it into a ponytail, then decide that you still prefer it down.
5. Return to the kitchen. Decide that waffles might be a good idea for dinner. Your dinner, that is. Pull out waffle mix and a mixing bowl.
6. Realize that dinner would be best prepared with musical accompaniment.
7. Fetch your laptop and consider playing something classical, like Bizet’s Habanera. Put on Lil’ Kim. Add Tegan and Sarah to the playlist. Giggle as you picture the three of them meeting. Because you are alone, add N’sync. Start dancing as you set a pot of water to boil. Put your hips into it. Drop it like it’s hot (your booty, not the water).
8. Realize that the blinds are up and the neighbors can probably see EVERYTHING. Straighten up.
9. Remember that your ass looks really good in those yoga pants. Continue dancing. Hope that the lesbians across the street can see (update: they aren’t lesbians, as it turns out).
10. Plug in the waffle iron. Open a bag of baby carrots and start eating them one by one. Decide to make your girlfriend garlic toast, to go with the pasta. Prepare the waffle mix. Eat more carrots. Continue dancing.
11. Mix ground flaxseed into the waffle mix. Notice a sandwich cookie on the counter, sitting prettily on a saucer as though waiting for you. Pop it into your mouth. Add blueberries to the waffle mix. Note how amazing the cookie tastes, really like eating for the first time. Butter bread, sprinkle garlic and salt, slide it into the oven on a sheet. Think about how great another cookie would taste.
12. Add pasta to the boiling water. Pull out the box of sandwich cookies from the cabinet. Eat another one. Escape into gastronomic bliss.
13. Drop everything and eat another cookie. Fly away on a cloud of chocolate and cream.
14. Vaguely remember that you’re supposed to be doing something.
15. Smell bread toasting. Open the oven and do a quick check. Spray the waffle iron with PAM. Think how great it is that this PAM is the kind with oils rich in Omega3. Drop several spoonfuls of batter into the waffle iron.
16. Defensively explain to your roommate, when he enters the kitchen and makes a snide comment about N’Sync, that it makes you feel nostalgic, and that, anyway, you listen to Tchaikovsky, much of the time (and Lady Gaga).
17. Drain the pasta. Pile pasta and sauce into a bowl, next to the toast. Take the dinner to your girlfriend. Forget to tell her that the bowl is kind of hot. Bring her a wet rag to soothe her burned fingers. Wonder to yourself whether you should top the waffles with jelly or syrup.
18. Return to the kitchen. Remove the waffle from the iron and make one more. Butter the two waffles and stack them on top of each other. Pour syrup on half of the stack. Spread jelly on the other half. Note with happiness that some of the syrup overlaps with the jelly, and wonder if you’re onto something new. Lament the lack of ice cream as an additional topping. Lament the lack of sprinkles. Consider slathering almond butter over the whole thing for protein. Decide against it. Briefly consider sautéing some broccoli, to have a vegetable. Remember that you just ate some carrots and gratefully decide against it.
19. Eat the waffles, and your girlfriend’s second piece of toast, and the rest of her pasta, and drink some of her Kalhua. Feel full.
20. No. I mean, feel full.
21. Decide to write a blog on cooking dinner stoned. Write a blog on cooking dinner stoned.
22. Plan your after-dinner snack.
Note: I wrote this last year. Reposting.
