Futurethinking

I've had my days of doubt over whether I'd be okay living by myself. I mean, whether I'd be able to manage the making of food for self, keeping the place clean and all that. Now, I can be a lean, mean cleaning machine if I have a little music, so I was never worried about that so much. But I have always wondered about the rest. I mean, I can cook, it's not like I'm going to starve or anything, but, you know? Can I handle the bigger stuff? Will I survive in the long run? I've always been half afraid to think so.

But it's when you suddenly realise you're starving at half past midnight, after having just sent your mother off to sleep 'cause she was nodding off in front of the TV, and fifteen minutes later end up chowing down a triple-egg, mega cheese-heavy omelette, seasoned with oregano and pepper, shallow fried in purified butter till golden brown with chopped tomatoes, chillies, with multi-grain bread drowning in butter on the side, that you start to realise you're going to be okay.