F&%K you slow cooker

I've been pretty organised this week. I will normally plan out recipes and what we're going to eat all week, I've organised everything pretty well - or so I thought. This is the lead up to the worlds biggest sulk.

It's a Tuesdays. You get to go to KC which is awesome, but it means spending 3.5 hours on the train. The Special Needs Computer at KC died which is officially the last straw with this never ending saga that started in June. Despite the fact that you weren't meant to cook dinners, you end up helping your husband because he has a headache. You get grumpy because it's the one night he's cooking and you didn't want to worry about anything, but feel guilty because he's not well. You also wash up while helping because the washing up is still there from the night before. Next morning you realise you have to wash up YET AGAIN because you live in PERPETUAL fear that you have missed the letter from the Real Estate Agents telling you they're coming for an inspection and they will just come into your house and see how you really live. You think 'lucky I'm so clever in organising my time' - I've planned a slow cooker dinner. Your mother in law promised you that they save you heaps of time. You've had to soak dried kidney beans the night before and boil them for 10 minutes this morning. Ok... phone rings ... turns out you've left your iPod, book, diary and the bloody Olympics Studies stuff you had organised to photograph with the Director of the Library today and wear Jeans to work for ARE WITH YOUR HUSBAND AT WORK 40 MINUTES AWAY. You've spent several weeks working on the project and stayed back late to make sure that all the details would fall together. Everything is Fucked because YOU forgot to get a bad out of a car. You knew your husband was working today, you knew you started late. You knew your stuff was in the car. Somehow this did not sink in.

You think about how the recipe of the slow cooker has another 20 billion steps in prep work to do.

*Rage builds and results in the following email to your husband*

That's it. Already my clean all the things and be perfect streak has failed. I just can't hold everything together anymore.

Fuck you slow cooker. I'm not using you because you make me worry too much. I'm not spending my morning getting dinner ready so you can make me panic all day that my house will burn down.


weg.khlrfsewl`

dfgdszrjwatlgkfffffffffffff

(I've added the link so you guys know what I'm talking about)

Husband calls and says - You have to blog that email. Trust me just do it.

I now know the truth about slow cookers. They don't save you time, they just cook really fucking slow. You still have to do everything you normally do - just in the morning when all you want to do is die or go back to sleep. Then they spend all day cooking something that you could do in 20 minutes when you get home as long as you add extra stock. 

I'm not even sure I can get to work without my iPod.