Confession

I'm actually domestic. You wouldn't know it. I complain about cooking dinner and I don't bake regularly and heaven forbid you ever find me cleaning unless company is coming over or I'm desperate for money. But I like it, actually. I like cooking. I like baking. I like cleaning, occasionally and when I can do it my way. I like being domestic. Every now and then, I put on the June Cleaver hat and become a very cooking and cleaning like person. Today is one of those days. I made myself dinner and actually cooked. It was only a scrambled egg and toast but, I didn't burn the house down, didn't wreck the pan, and didn't burn the egg OR the toast. This is amazing for the girl that nearly burnt water the other day. So if ever I complain about hating cooking or absolutely sucking at it, I'm lying. I love to cook (not every day but overall). And I'm pretty good at it if I have directions. Granted, I have to call LindzandJosh (they've become one already) and my dad to get them to tell me that I'm doing it right. (The toast I can handle. The egg was a bit iffy.) Sure some things turn out horrid *cough* brownies *cough* but, overall I can cook and not kill anyone and not screw it up horribly. So whenever I complain about cooking, baking, or cleaning, or the like, I'm lying or I'm in a bad mood that day. I'm off to go finish packing and cleaning up my room. Oh, and load-unload the dishwasher and check to see if my clothes are dry yet.
List of domestic things done in the past 24 hours:
Cooked dinner
Did laundry
Cleaned in my room
Dishes
Possibly going to make cookies
Cleaned the tub
Packed my bag for Darien Lake

Heaven help me if I ever had to do all this EVERY day but, when it's every now and then like it is now (except the laundry part), I kinda like it.

You can send the angry mob after me now. And no, I won't do your house. Sorry.