I don’t cook.
Ever.
It’s not because I don’t like to or because I don’t know how because I can and I do. I don’t cook because I’m a college student, a resident, and, more importantly, I’m excessively lazy.
I, like most college students, have fallen into the bottomless pit of hot pot ramen noodles and microwave popcorn, fried Campus Corner food and chicken finger wraps from the Widener food court.
Dormitory, and semi-dormitory, housing life is not conducive to any form of independent real world dietary preparation.
If my overwhelming lethargy, due to homework and the supplemental sleeplessness that ensues, of course, prevents my timely trek to the cafeteria, I am, for lack of a better phrase, S.O.L. My meal options are limited to ramen noodles and phone ordered deliverables, the salt content of both of which exceed the weekly sodium allowance.
The kitchen is always an option, but to be perfectly honest with you, it’s really not all that attractive an idea when the oven sets off the smoke detector and the microwave has food baked on the inside from the early 80’s. But I’m not complaining; I’m really not. I will be the first one to admit that college students are among the laziest, most destructive demographic on the planet.
And so, given my college cooking history, I ask: is there life after ramen? Will I be a an upscale middle-aged business professional heating a Styrofoam cup full of dehydrated vegetable nibblets and hyper-curled pasta? I doubt it. Generations of sluggish college students before me have broken worse habits. But until the day when I have to give up the pampered life of prefab meals and buffet lines, I will continue to radiate my leftovers and boil my ramen.
Posted to the web by Steph Mangold