In my whole life to date I wouldn’t have spent more than maybe 6 months living on my own. It’s not as if one never considers the idea, however, and I’ve formulated the odd strong opinion. Like I’d never be one of those sad lonely types who don’t cook properly. I was rather taken aback, therefore, on the evening of day one alone, to discover myself eating two crackers and half a pear for dinner.
Day two things got worse. Dinner was a piece of toast (with vegemite) and an orange at 3pm. Well, it seemed worse to me at the time.
Day three? Come back tomorrow.