So, tonight I wanted angel hair pasta. Just pasta. I had Coke for breakfast and brownies for lunch and cookies for a snack and I set out to have angel hair pasta for dinner. I'm not gonna promise not to come crying to you when I get scurvy, 'cause, let's face it, I totally will. I do promise not to act too surprised.
And I was going to throw, like, fifteen little red pepper flakes into the boiling water so that it wouldn't be totally bland. I, naturally, did not pay any attention to what I was doing. I took the lid off the red pepper and turned it upside down over the pot.
Yeah, that little plastic thing that they put on there so that when you do that you don't dump half a bottle of red pepper flakes into the pot that already contains the pasta? You know that thing? It was totally not there anymore.
I did my best to siphon out the pepper. But, of course, that made me sneeze a lot and also was not exactly successful. Then I just left it go. When the pasta was done, I rinsed it and rinsed it and rinsed it some more. And then I stuck it into bowls and we ate it.
And it was totally edible. Very spicy, but the boyfriend has this chronic evening sinus headache thing going on, so whatever. It's as medicinal as the mints he's been sucking down. ("You need another one already? The effect really doesn't last, does it?" "Oddly enough, no... Candy: not medicine.") We both finished our bowls.
And now I regret the decision to eat the ruined pasta. I regret it immensely. My stomach hates me. My espophagus hates me. Even the inside of my nose is angry. I suspect that when I try to lay down and go to sleep, the misery will only intensify.
