Am at a friend's flat, really cold. Coming up to her neighbourhood is an odissey. It's always a couple of degrees lower here than in the centre of Barcelona.
Came to help with some university tasks. Was bribed this morning by the image of prawns for dinner.
The menu kept changing, though:
10 a.m.: We'll get some prawns, and some nice wine. I'll ask my bf to do the shopping. yes, let's have a niiiice dinner.
Great!
6 p.m.: I think there are some caneloni in the fridge, my mother made them. That'll be nice, huh?
What happened to the pr-? well, never mind!
10 p.m., already at her place: Uh, can't find the caneloni. L. must have eaten them. But some nice fried chicken shall do, ok? Am making some soup out of my mother's leftovers she brought in a tupperware.
Hmm. The soup smells nice, fine. Chicken then.
10:15 p.m.: Hey, instead of fried chicken it shall be grilled chicken -all right?
Hey, whatever you have. Don't ask any more, because I keep salivating towards one taste and then you change your mind!
10:20 p.m.: Well, the soup should be ok, do you want anything else with it or will you have enough with the soup?
Don't look at me like that!!! No!!! NOOO!!! Leave that chopping knife!!!
O.k., I admit this last bit was made up. But almost. Me starving, finally had the famous soup and some bread & ham. Very little bread & ham.
And it's cold.
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