This is why my room smells like garlic bread

So, I don't cook. Well, I mean, I can make eggs and pancakes, ground beef, and guacamole, a rather unfortunate mixture never to be eaten all at once. But, if given a pile of ingredients, I can't promise much.

 

Here, in London, I don't have a meal plan, so I have to cook for myself. And this is totally fine because I like the challenge (yes, for me it's a challenge) of getting off my lazy behind and walking into the kitchen and actually making something instead of going to a cafeteria with a bowl and expectant stomach, not having to do any work beyond standing in line. 

Well, Tuesday, in my attempt to liven up some rather bland chicken (and yes, I must confess I bought it pre-cooked from the grocery store) I managed to spill "garlic granules," because I couldn't find garlic power anyplace at the grocery store, all over my bedroom floor. 

Second part of the story:

My radiator doesn't work. I mean, in theory, yes, it's on, but it's not actually producing heat. This is a problem when I have a huge window that permits a rather icy draft to float across my bed. Luckily, I have a acquired a small but efficient space heater from the manager of my building until the maintenance guy makes his way up here to infuse some warmth into my radiator. 

So, at about six, I turn on my space heater so that I don't need to put on Underarmor, and two pairs of socks, a puffer jacket and beanie in order to maintain a comfortable body temperature. 

Well, the space heater sits on the floor. There are garlic granules on my floor. Combine the two and what do you get? The sweet aroma of roasted garlic. Yummy in theory, kind of gross in reality. But at least this way, I'm keeping the vampires away. 

Of course the simple solution to this unintentional culinary feat is to vacuum. The thing is, I have to request a vacuum from the front desk. Takes a while to reserve one from what I understand. So, while I'm waiting, I'll just continue to crave Italian food.