At this point, not much to report on the domestic front, at least not to the general public (that would be you). What I will say is that since moving out and living alone, I’m quite proud to say that I managed to resist for two weeks before eating at McDonalds!
Alas, last night I succumbed to the demon arches. It had been a full day, and I found myself on the other side of town after visiting my Dad in hospital. It was 7:30, I was hungry and had no hope of getting home in time to make and eat dinner before starving to death. So Maccas it was.
I didn’t gulp it down, I took my time, read their copy of the Hun
and relaxed for a while. But it didn’t go down well. Maybe I’m too used to good food nowadays. No matter how much salt they pile onto the fries, their meals just don’t taste good to me anymore. I suppose with McDonalds, that’s not the point. But I won’t be hurrying back.
