I like to cook. I do! I'm decently good at it, too. Don't you people listen to my mom, who is convinced I can't cook and only eat Ramen. She taught me well, but hasn't lived with me since junior high school, at which point in time I wasn't interested in cooking. Interest being totally different from ability.
Cooking every day, though, gets a little tiring. This tiredness of cooking spills leads to cooking from boxes during busy nights (totally understandable), but unfortunately also impacts the nights when I do have time to cook. R, love of my life, cooks frozen food, boxed noodles, and steak (which we have, like, never). I'm thrilled to learn that our new roommate cooks (he made us pigs in a blanket for our first meal in the new house) and wants to do more of the cooking. It's actually felt weird to him to have me do all the work. Needless to say, I'm thrilled. The thought of only cooking part of the time has actually rejuvenated my zest for cooking. I was so excited by the thought of not having to cook that after work I went to the store and got ingredients to make kebabs (which were delicious).
I sense good eating in my future.