I tried to cook yesterday. Bake really. Actually, all I managed to do was turn the stove on. How hard can that be? Note to self: in the future, do not put flammable oven mitts in the lower broiler just inches from an open flame. The pizza I had been planning on cooking stayed in the freezer while the charred and flaming oven mitts were first doused with water then run down the stairs to be dumped on the sidewalk to the amusement and consternation of the mail lady, cable guy, and various passers by. I met a lot of my neighbors in the building as they stuck their heads out to see if the apartment really was on fire or if I was just trying to cook again.
This morning I found six takeout menus in front of my door. Subtle.