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Dublin: 18 °C Thursday 18 July, 2024
the stress

The 30 stages of trying to throw an adult dinner party

Is it worth the stress.

SO YOU’VE MADE the decision to have people over and cook some food.

WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU.

Just think about the stress, the commitment, the pressure of it all.

Here’s how it goes down:

Friday

4.30pm – This is a great idea, can’t wait to get off work for the weekend now. Maybe if I just sit here and act like I’m looking at this spreadsheet I can get up some cooking tips on the sly.

5pm – Freeeeeeee, it’s gonna be a fun weekend. Time for pints.

giphy Giphy Giphy

Saturday

12.35am – I regret everything.

12.36am – Why did I agree to host this thing tomorrow? What if it’s an absolute disaster? Why is everyone I invited a freeloading leech, ALWAYS relying on me to do everything? So what if I’ve never cooked before, and they do constantly? Greed, is all this is.

12.53am – I suppose I’ll never feel what it’s like to not be worrying about this again. This is my life now.

8am – Oh excellent, I’m awake at 8am on my day off.

8.01am – Shite, it’s dinner party day.

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11am – Right, I’m a bit more organised now, all the rubbish is out and my junk is hidden in the box room.

12pm – The shopping list is all written up, and I’m about to hit the local Tesco with ALL the time to spare. This won’t be too bad afterall.

12.20pm – OH MY GOD THEY HAVE NO AUBERGINES. What kind of supermarket doesn’t serve aubergines?!

12.30pm – I actually need to completely revamp my kitchen now that I think about it.

12.31pm – I cannot believe I was going to serve up some food without  a table runner and napkin rings. I am a monster.

Beaded-Napkin-Rings Thefinishingtouchny Thefinishingtouchny

1.40pm – I spent way too much, this is costing as much as a week away, eating out in Michelin restaurants every night.

2.00pm – I’ll just have a little sit down after all that shopping.

6.00pm – Shite, I’ve literally done nothing for the past four hours and my guests are due in an hour.

cat naps kate at yr own risk kate at yr own risk

6.01pm – Shite shite shite.

6.10pm – I’ve turned on all the ovens and took out all the ingredients. Sorted.

6.12pm – A glass of wine won’t go amiss.

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7.00pm – For someone who can’t even scramble eggs, this is going quite well.

7.10pm – That pot isn’t the right size and you’ve completely ruined everything. Your kitchen looks like it’s been accommodating 90 students with ravenous appetites and oh yeah, there goes the doorbell.

Doorbell Dogspin Dogspin

7.40pm – How long is it acceptable for me to disappear to the kitchen to cook while everyone hangs in the living room?

7.55pm – I definitely should have just ordered Chinese.

8.30pm – OK this isn’t going too bad. Siobhain definitely turned up her nose a bit at the salad there, but salad is salad, all the same.

8.38pm – MORE BOOZE.

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9.00pm – Food is done and I pretty much wasted all of my life cooking for these clowns so they can leave me with a nasty kitchen. Takeaway would have saved time, money, stress, and is basically the holy grail of all food.

9.10pm – I resent all of you.

11.30pm – This is actually brilliant. Imagine how expensive all this alcohol would be out in a pub? And I don’t even need to get a taxi home, I’m ALREADY HOME.

11.59pm – Everyone is admiring me. Even those who didn’t eat most of their food. I am the greatest.

Sunday

03.46am – Will these people ever leave.

Dinner Party Aftermath iriskh iriskh

10.00am – * Looks at kitchen, checks the news to see if there’s been an earthquake* OK, never again.

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