Red sauce for days


I know it doesn’t look that good but it tastes great so I don’t care. And yes, chopsticks for everything!

So there was this one night more than a month ago when I arrived at my apartment late and starving. I was chatting with a friend about how hungry I was and that I’ll just fix a sandwich for dinner. He then told me that a sandwich would not satiate the kind of famished I was in. That cooking pasta would be better. I whined and told him that’d take too long but he insisted that it wouldn’t. I thought about it and he was a graduate student abroad living alone. He knows his shit. I estimated the preparation time and actually, he’s right. The pasta would take eight to ten minutes, the sauce would only take ten to fifteen, including preparing the ingredients. I had everything I need to cook it so WHY NOT?

Those thirty minutes or so of my life felt like the longest because good lord, I was starving. My loaf of bread was mocking me for this delayed gratification bullshit I was doing.

But that’s it. Delayed gratification isn’t bullshit because that might be the best pasta I’ve ever cooked. And I happily had a feast.

Which brings us to a few nights ago. I wasn’t starving this time around but I had foresight. I already had my dinner sorted out but I had to get to work early the next day. I know I was not going to be able to wake up early enough to cook so I had to prepare my breakfast and lunch that night. All I wanted was lounge around in my bed but I GOTTA ADULT. So I did and cooked pasta. And it has served me well the next day.

But the point of this post is not how cooking pasta instead of fixing a sandwich makes me feel like a responsible adult. And how it’s always the better choice. And how it’s not actually difficult and time-consuming to do so. It’s actually how associative my brain is. Because now, every time I cook pasta, and especially if I do so against ~odds~ AKA against my laziness, I remember my friend. My brain is so associative that at times, talking to me doesn’t make any sense.

I watched The Babadook with this same friend (we didn’t like it) before and if you’ve seen it, everything starts with a car accident. Then this friend also made me read Andy Weir’s The Egg, about a month later. That short story wasn’t funny at all but I initially laughed and told him it reminded me of The Babadook. And he was like: WHERE IN ALL THIS IS THE BABADOOK? And I was like: uhm, THEY BOTH START WITH A CAR ACCIDENT? And he got weirded out by my brain and thought process (even more because he has already suffered enough from my being scatterbrained although I prefer using the more pleasing sounding associative than that).

So there’s that, folks! My brain tends to associate A LOT of stuff even if they only have a bare minimum connection. For your information. And that’s the point of this post. WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT? See, I went from pasta to my friend to associating everything and anything. WHAT IS THIS BRAIN? Hahaha!

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