about a square peg in a round hole

Yet another truffle day. Ginger and Drambuie in dark chocolate coated with chocolate flakes. 350, 2.5 hours. One very grumpy Square.

Fast forward two hours and I’m kinda craving for some potato rosti and croquettes. Hungrily I opened the freezer and whaddaya know – some fucker housemate has stolen ALL of it. Plus half a pack of croquant truffles (not that I was in the mood for any) and a caramel chocolate square. One very very grumpy and pissed off Square.

Looking around the kitchen, I realise that my pots and pans, some crockery and utensils are still missing-in-action – only one place it can be. Room 1. By now, my temper was far from being good.

In storms me into Room 1 and fucking hell, the place is like a dumpster turned inside out, food, cups, pans, pots, utensils, cutlery, crockery all strewn over the floor. Half of it mine.

The chap who is squatting in Room 1 (which belongs to Sachin, a quite alright friend) is half asleep and wondering why I am cursing like a madhatter. I pick up my kitchenware, grumbling that he should have fucking washed my shit and return it where he took it (it’s been taken for quite a few days). There’s leftover food still in my stuff. The clincher: my 12″ deep saucepan has mold growing on the rotten leftovers in it.

I snapped. I looked at him and said what the fuck is this, there’s fucking mold in my fucking pan and unceremoniously threw it on the floor, collected the rest of my things and stormed out wondering how the fuck he can live in a fucking dump like that – very very loudly.

Erica’s already aware that I’m in a bad bad mood and is quiet as a mouse, knowing full well that I can and will snap at any breathing thing that is in my face. The kitchen is once more in a dirty mess – unwashed crockery, dirty sinks. I collect whatever that’s mine and set it aside and then got rid of everything else – including spoons, forks, a pot, glasses and lots more – in the fucking backyard. I’ve never seen a pot fly so far and high quicker.

I’m upset and I can see visibly that Erica is too. She doesn’t like people venting anger the way I do, nor does she like seeing me upset. I take a deep breath and try calming down.

Sigh. Shouldn’t have gone off like that. But then again, it’s nice to know that the fury is still somewhere within me, ready to manifest anytime. It’s been a while since I lost my temper. Hopefully, it’ll be a long time till I erupt again, if ever again.

Hehe. Who am I kidding ey?

I’m a walking pressure cooker with a faulty lid.