If you've read a few posts, it's pretty obvious that I live with roommates. Roommates who aren't the best at cleaning. And I don't mean to imply that it's the only trait necessary to join the "great human being" club. But it helps when all you want is a proper breakfast before leaving for work. It's a little disheartening to wake up to a leaning tower of dishes, counters crowded with pizza boxes, groceries yet to be put away, and stray beer bottles. Cooking in something like this is like trying to juice a cold lime. I yield very little.
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