I woke up this morning and Anthony had left a space heater on and the apartment heat on at full blast and left to go book shopping.
If I ever wondered what a turkey feels like in an oven, I got a sample. It was unbelievably hot.
I've been kidding with him since he came home -- saying I should blog that he attempted to kill me. Attempted murder by cooking me alive (you know that I'm kidding... right?).
If I had cooked any more I would have been ready to serve for dinner. All that would have been needed is a side of mashed potatoes and gravy and some stuffing.
Stuffing is wonderful. Just not while I'm trying to sleep.