How do you cook your own meals every day with roommates in mind and a full-time job? I can’t answer this from experience alone because my full-time job is a lot more flexible than most, but also because it’s not as lucrative as a regular job. I’m an artist and writer by passion. Additionally, it makes me close to nothing. However, my experiences have similarities. So, here’s my breakdown of them.
Living with family means never being able to cook your own meals.
This is true, especially if you have a mother who’s very minute about her kitchen. It’s tough to place myself in an area dominated by someone else. For example, your bathroom is 10x more comfortable than a public one. It’s even more comfortable than your parent’s private one. The same logic applies to my house. The kitchen is mostly my mother’s domain.
Baking and cooking are hobbies I picked up around my senior year in high school. I got really into making Italian food (one of my favorite cuisines), though it was mostly pizzas and spaghetti. It’s evolved since then. Baking on the other is something akin to inheritance.
My family had a bakery when we lived in the Philippines. Both parents were adept at the art and an older sister had taken it up years before. I also loved Cupcake Wars and Food Network in general. So, I was really into making baked goods, even if they were always from box mixes. This was an activity I did quite a bit when we lived in a smaller home. Things were less about “don’t make a mess” or “don’t ruin anything” and just about doing something enjoyable. I was seventeen then.
This is Part 2 of Living Alone at 31.
Okay, so I’m not alone. My parents decided to vacation in the Philippines for a couple of months, leaving me, my brother, one of my older sisters, and her husband. We have three dogs, one turtle, and a fish with a snail and shrimp. In all the sense of the word “alone”, I’m far from it. But I’ve taken up the enjoyment of cooking and baking again… Is that a surprise?
I mind my mother’s words about her kitchen, but without her hovering around, wondering and sounding judging, I’ve been able to make quite a few things. I’ve traveled to the East and to Europe through the dishes I make. And I find enjoyment in my food again, which for a long time, I didn’t have.
Thankful as I am for my mom making food every day, I’m also tired of the same food. I miss the days when she explored her cooking just last year. However, I understand. It gets tiring.
It’s not the cooking though that tires me out. It’s everything else.