I attempted to cook a frozen pizza tonight for dinner and I supposedly screwed it up. For thin crust pizza, I like the crust to be crispy and Nick doesn’t like it like that, so he called my pizza burnt. It was not burnt in the slightest, I just like my pizza to be properly cooked. He prefers his to be undercooked, and there’s nothing more I hate on this planet than undercooked, floppy or soggy food. It makes me want to barf. Seriously. 

So we started arguing about a stupid pizza and I was not in the mood to just stand there and rebuff his insulting comments about my cooking abilities. I know I can’t cook, retard- there’s no need to rub it in. But I’m not going to get any better if he doesn’t let me try. Everytime I screw up, he goes crazy and screams on about the waste of food. Whatever. So I picked up my purse, put on my flip flops and took my house keys off the hook. I needed to get away from him for about an hour so I walked. My walk this time took me down to the beach, and I just stood there like a stuffed chip staring at the waves on the lake. It was really calming to watch the lake, and after about fifteen minutes I walked across the beach and pushing the sand around with my toes. I felt very grounded and relaxed afterwards so I walked home as I felt like I could now deal with his crap.

Luckily for me, I didn’t have to as he was in a different frame of mind when I got home.