Burnt popcorn. The acrid, headachy-smell that ranks right up there with the pungent aroma of nail polish remover. I don't know I managed to do it, because I put the bag in for 2 minutes and 30 seconds like I always do...and yet the smell has permeated the entire house. So here I sit, huddled in my sweatshirt, waiting for the crisp air blowing in from all four windows to make some semblance of difference. It's reminiscent of my freshman year at UConn on the sixth floor of Hale Hall. Someone would always be making popcorn--for breakfast, lunch, dinner, a snack, it didn't matter--and at least once a week I would come home to this nauseating stench which would last for hours and hours and occasionally an entire day. Ugh. I can't say I miss that aspect of college.
I meant to add in my last entry that being a Weight Watchers leader would serve as a supplement to my current income; it's not a full-time job in and of itself.
This blog is somewhat random. Please blame the popcorn. I can't think straight.
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1 comment:
Sometimes you have to shake the bag a little to make sure they're not clumped together; I've run in to the same problem. Your microwave is 5 seconds more powerful than mine : )
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