So, I can’t cook in a crockpot.  I mean…I CAN.  I have made a few good dishes. Well, one – but it was delicious.  The problem is, I have some kind of insane paranoia of spontaneous crockpot combustion.  Most people put a delightful and delicious mix of edibles in the crockpot, head to work for the day and when they come home – bing/bang/boom – DINNER!  I, on the other hand, cannot conceive of this.  The whole idea makes me ill.  I think it is because I saw a building get hit by lightening and catch on fire when I was young…but…regardless…I can’t leave something COOKING all day long!  That’s crazy!  You may as well just turn on a burner and put a dishtowel on top of it!  My one fabulous crockpot dinner I cooked overnight when I slept…because apparently if my house catches on fire it would be better if *I WERE IN IT*.  The problem with this is that my nose, first thing in the morning, is that of a pregnant bloodhound.  The amount of gagging that ensued upon my awakening was God-awful.  I can smell the perfume of the neighbor, so needless to say, the scent of salsa, chicken, beans and corn was…overpowering.  I’m trying to conquer my fear, but these things take time.

Other things I cannot do: sleep with socks on, crawl under a bed or desk, leave my house without checking to be sure the front door is locked…by turning the handle three times and order anything off a restaurant menu without modifying it in some way shape or form.

I’m not on any drugs…but I should be.

Oh…and I overuse both hyphens and periods…or would they be ellipses?  I don’t know…