Why Being A Lazy Bastard Sucks

My boyfriends not home tonight to make me dinner or talk me into going out for food.
I thought about just enduring hunger until tomorrow, but it got the best of me.
First I opened the fridge and saw one of those roasted chickens that my friend Lisa who used to work in a grocery store deli always warned me not to eat.
I pulled it out, smelled it, because of course a quick wiff of cold dead chicken will inform me of it's edibility (is that a word?).
My nose didn't seem to pick up any warning scents, so I grabbed a steak knife and began shaving off pieces of meat as if it were a turkey (only smaller).
I got about 3 shavings in and chewed before what I was doing struck me.
I grabbed the oversized plastic lid, sealed it up and returned the bird to the top shelf of the refridgerator (where I am pretty sure it will remain until it begins to rot).
I opened the little pantry door and saw the box of 'Smores' flavoured 'Poptarts' that I bought over a month ago.
I know they are preservable, but for some reason the shelf life of a poptart turned my stomach and I cancelled another possible culinary option.
I turned to another shelf and saw a huge, like costco sized bag of chocolate pudding mix.
Mmmmmm pudding....
But then I'd have to pour milk into it, and maybe even find a blender. That was too much effort, and since my health freak brother moved to Australia I haven't seen anyone 'blend' their dinners.
Nope, the pudding was out the fucking window.
You know when you get that shakey, hollow kind of hungry?
Yeah, i was borderline, so I went back to the couch and laid down to think.
"Should I walk to Burger King?"
Yeah fuck that, I'd piss the couch before I'd get up to pee, walking ain't in the cards.
***BING***
Nope, not some genius idea ringing in my head, but the signal that my laundry was done and ready to be folded.
I actually got up.
WALKED downstairs and grabbed the laundry.
Then, there it was, and I had forgotten all about it.
The deep freezer.
I cracked that puppy open with a new hope in my heart.
Then there it was.....
Eggo Waffles. :-)
I remembered that the toaster was still sitting on the counter so I didn't even have to bend over, open the cupboard, pull it out, put it on the counter and plug it in.
It was easy enough.
I WALKED back upstairs with an 8 pack of eggos under my arm and my laundry only a sweet smelling memory sitting on top of the dryer.
A few labourous movements and I had my dinner cooking and a plate and fork all ready.
I toyed with the idea of just buttering them and eating it like that, but figured it would be dry. I hate dry, I'd put sauce on everything if it was socially acceptable.
I'd have to bite the bullet and use MAPLE SYRUP.
Fuck, even the name of that shit makes me sick.
It's secretions from a fucking tree, and we drizzle it over food to make it taste better.
Tree puke, or blood or cum, whatever, it's fucking nasty, but, being that I am a lazy bastard I had to overlook it.
I opened the fridge again, tried to divert my eyes from the cold dead bird and spotted a 1 litre bottle of maple syrup (gulp) on the third shelf.
I grabbed it and it felt empty.
A little shake eased my mind that enough foliage jizz was in there to coat my toasted waffles.
Then I tried to open it, i was sort of holding it over the plate, which by this point in time held my dinner all spaced out and ready to be dampened.
I unscrewed the cap, and a big chunk of dried out tree spunk fell directly into one of the divets on the second waffle from the right.
I could actually feel my throat opening up.
But I ponied up (ponyed up) and shook it off into the sink, where i quickly rinsed it down the drain.
Now I'm thinking, 'Hmm, if it's all dried out and crusty like the corners of my old neighbours mouth who always talked too much and got spit bubbles going from extended sentences (much like this one) should I be eating this.
I went back over the choices in my head, pudding, poptarts, hunger, and then I just dumped it on.
I carried it to the couch, flicked the TV on so that maybe if I was eating funky tree splooge I might not notice cause my attention would be diverted elsewhere, and I ate.
All four waffles.
They were good too.
I hate that I am a lazy bastard, because now I am hungry again, and going over the choices in my head. But, the laundry is done, so there's no reason to go back downstairs and look in the freezer. I mean, if there were two reasons to go I could justify it, but there just isn't.
Maybe someone could just run me over a hamburg?
Please...