1. Jar of Peanut Butter
LEVEL: In a grrreat place.
Prep Time: 0 minutes
Cook Time: 0 minutes
Total Time: 0 minutes
Servings: One jar of peanut butter.
Ingredients: Jar of Peanut Butter, tablespoon, lack of self-respect.
2. Half Eaten Pizza From Last Night
LEVEL: Ughhhhhh why-is-the-sun-so-bright.
Prep Time: The 20 minutes it takes you to somehow leave your bed and get to the kitchen. (UNLESS you sleep with your pizza, like me, in which case this is 0 minutes).
Cook Time: 30 seconds on the microwave, if you want it to be soggy and weird you animal.
Total Time: 0 minutes-20 minutes and 30 seconds
Ingredients: The internal dialogue of “Am I hungry? Nauseous? I have pizza?”, Advil, and fifty blurry selfies.
3. Your Roommate’s Hummus
LEVEL: Point of no return.
Prep Time: 3 minutes it takes to make sure they’re not there, plus 2 minutes to reason with yourself “am I really doing this?”
Cook Time: 20 seconds, to find pita chips
Total Time: 3-5 minutes
Ingredients: LACK OF SOUL, menacing smile, desperation.
4. Nearest Chinese Restaurant’s Student Deals
LEVEL: Requires pants. So EXTREMELY difficult.
Prep Time: 10 minutes to find a pair of jeans that don’t totally fit, but will almost button, thus allowing you to leave the house. And 5 minute walk, because if you live farther than 5 minutes from a Chinese restaurant, move.
Cook Time: That’s the chefs battle, not yours.
Total Time: 15 minutes
Ingredients: Telling your mom you just don’t have the time with your stressful Communications major to make food.
5. Sleeve Of Oreos
LEVEL: AND I’M HERE, TO REMIND YOUUUU.. OF THE MESS YOU LEFT WHEN YOU WENT AWAYAYY..
Prep Time: 0 minutes, because the Oreos were already opened and under your bed from last week
Cook Time: 5 seconds, because that’s how long it takes to debate whether you want to like your crushes status for a truth in their inbox, even though you know they were hacked and it was a joke but maybe, just maybe this will ignite a flame in their mind for you? Where’s the rest omy wine?
Total Time: 5 seconds, plus 5 minutes and 31 seconds for when you sing ‘All Too Well’ by Taylor Swift to yourself in the mirror.
Ingredients: Your ex’s Facebook account, scrolled all the way back to 2010, no pants, and a belief that cavities and calories don’t exist.