I have been forced to do domestic things. I hate domestic things. HATE THEM. I hate laundry and cleaning and cooking and all that crap. Heck, most the time I'm not even a fan of showering or brushing my hair. (Lyn will attest to this) But, I have been forced to do something today that is so foreign to me I can't even explain it.
I am cooking chickens.
Full chickens. They look like they are kneeling prisoners that I have been torturing. I mean - headless naked prisoners. With no hands or feet, but you get the idea. Anywho, I am cooking chickens. I think it's called... roasting. Of course, I've been cooking them for hours now and have no idea how to tell if they are done.
I had to clean out my deep freeze last night because my brother and I bought half a cow. In order to put it in there, I had to move a whole ton of crap out and I discovered I had 5 chickens. So, in order to fix that, I am doing this.
I also am cooking a ton of hamburger that I found I hadn't used from the last time my family bought a cow.
In rebellion, I'm still in my pjs and I walked the dogs without brushing my teeth.