Bring Me Home
“Living with my mom, the best chef on the fucking planet, has made me spoiled as shit. Even when I lived on my own in L.A., I never made breakfast. If I woke up before noon, I’d fix myself a bowl of cereal or grab a coffee on the way to the studio. I’ve never had the patience for cooking. The only thing I know how to make is steak, but I can’t make anything to go with the steak. So the fact that I’m reading a box of waffle mix at eight o’clock in the morning and making a disaster of my kitchen has me questioning my sanity.
My hands tremble a little as I crack the eggs into the bowl. As I whisk the eggs with a fork, I wonder when I should make the coffee. Should I wait until the waffles are done or should I make it now so it’s ready when the waffles are finished? How long does it take to make waffles?
“What the hell are you doing?”
“I’m visiting the tenth circle of hell, but you’re not allowed in here.
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