A Life Worth Living

I'm sure my boyfriend attempted to kill me while I was sleeping last night.

He came over in the evening to cook fifty litres of soup (ok, not quite, but it filled three big pots) for a work function he was going to have today.

So first he kept me up till close to midnight cooking the jolly soup, but when he went home, he left behind a time bomb.

I woke up this morning to the smell of something burnt in my apartment. Yes, the entire apartment had the fresh fragrance of burnt something.

"It can't be the soup," I thought. "I checked when Daniel was about to leave last night that all the switches were turned off."

But still the strange smell lingered. So I padded over to my kitchen and lo and behold, parts of the floor was covered in soup.

I looked at the murder weapon - he was cooking some soup in a slow cooker and set it on high, and it remained high until I turned it off in the morning, some eight hours later.

The soup had turned to mush (but miraculously not evaporated), there was soup all over my counter top, cupboard door and floor and the smell of burnt soup continued to waft through the air.

And I leave tonight with my murderer for the Gold Coast for five days. Oh dear.