I think I maybe added too much salt and pepper to my soup tonight in an effort to make it taste better. I say this because my mouth currently feels like the innermost circle of hell.
To be fair, my interior monologue upon taking it out of the fridge went something like this:
Inner Me With No Filter: Oh! We’re having the vomit soup for dinner!
Me-Voice Me: Julie! You MADE this soup, and you like it, it will be fine.
IMWNF: Yeah, I liked it the FIRST time we made it. You know, that time we made it well. That time we made it… edible?
MVM: You’ll eat it. And you’ll like it.
IMWNF: Incorrect. YOU will eat. I will hate it.
MVM: Fine. I’ll add salt and pepper. Now it will be delicious!
IMWNF: …maybe you better put in a little more.
And so I did. Seriously, I need to stop listening to that voice. The soup tastes FINE underneath the searing pain of salty dehydration and pepper-flames…