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I did not pack enough lunch to take to uni today and by 6.30 I was set to come home and kind of pretty darn hungry. My ride home involves a large section of Brunswick Street, the best street for vegan food and pubs in Melbourne, and it was tempting to stop on the way and grab some dinner.

I talked myself out of eating out and consoled myself with the idea that when I got home I could throw together a bowl of nachos pretty quickly. My housemate beat me home today and I edged my bike past her car and parked it out the back. I walked into the house out of breath (slightly, I live just over a hill) and carrying my basket and pannier and she was standing in the kitchen cooking us nachos. By the time I’d dumped my bags and grabbed a huge glass of water, she was serving dinner and I was pretty darn grateful.

Sometimes it’s nice to have someone else cook for you, don’t you think?