My first year living on my own, I ordered a take-out burrito bowl basically twice a week. I would rather starve all day and eat one hefty, greasy meal I picked up somewhere than spend the energy and time to cook myself something.
For one, I barely knew how to cook eggs, let alone a meal, but I also found myself struggling with all the time it’d take to cook.
I relished my free time way too much to spend it cooped up in the kitchen. And I couldn’t dare picture how some people actually found cooking to be a self-care activity.
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