It’s raining and I have a date tonight. A first one. The first in a long time. I always get this feeling – a desire to invert, to run away, to not take the risk, to stay alone because I’m really good at that. But whenever I do that, it makes the next time harder and I can’t keep complaining about wanting a partner and keep not doing anything about it. In about three hours I’ll be sat opposite a stranger trying to figure out the field of attraction and worrying about my hair or if I’m saying something stupid, or perhaps it will be other way round who knows. I’m full and have to stop myself from sneaking a spoonful of soup loaded with little macaroni elbows and four different types of beans and bright tender carrots. I’ve eaten two bowls already. It’ll take you 15 minutes, just make sure you use a smaller shape of pasta. If I had it I would have tossed in some chopped fresh parsley.
For one hungry person with leftovers, you’ll need…
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