Let me just level with you all for a minute here: I’m a pretty terrible roommate.
Remember that international boyfriend I was saving up to go see? Yea, well, I just cashed in some newly obtained vacation time, and guess what? The next flight to Dublin leaves at 6 pm today, and I’m on it. That’s right, I am a deserter. I’m leaving Carrie to fend for herself with next to nothing but two eggs left in the refrigerator. I wish I could be here to finish out the challenge, but the fish & chips and fresh Guinness was just far too tempting to turn down, especially after our recent Cottage fare. So, I’m a pretty terrible roommate, I know.
But, don’t worry – I have complete and utter faith that Carrie will continue on valiantly and finish the No Grocery Challenge even in my absence. She is a committed and reliable friend and roommate, and I know that she would never want to let our followers down. She will proudly scrounge on, until she is subsisting on frozen peas and butter alone – until she has eaten every last egg in our refrigerator – until she has found a use for the puff pastry. Carrie will not let us down; I have faith.
By the looks of things, I’m leaving at a rather critical time here at The Newport House, too. Dinners are getting pretty rugged around here. Wednesday saw plates full of fried potatoes and onions – one of our favorite sides – along with a somewhat-less-appetizing vegetable soup that looked like Tiny Tim just ladled it out of his torn pocket. It was a watery concoction of the sort that drifters might share in tin cups around a campfire beneath an overpass somewhere. Not to be underestimated, however, the taste was spot-on. Thursday, lo and behold, saw the return of eggs to our menu in the form of scrambled egg-and-mushroom sandwiches. We rustled up our usual side of fried potatoes and onions – that’s a dish that clearly never gets old.
Here’s what we have left: 3 packets of oatmeal, half a pound of pasta, 1 onion, 2 potatoes, 2 eggs, a quarter loaf of bread, half a bag of rice, 3 half-full bags of assorted frozen vegetables, and the infamous puff pastry.
And so now I pass the torch and leave the challenge in Carrie’s hands. Will she accept? Will she last until my return on April 7? God help us if she does. Who knows what she’ll be eating by then…and if we’ll have any pets left when I get back.
On second thought, Carrie, please don’t accept the challenge. Do not eat our pets; there’s no shame in going to the grocery store.