There is definitely a porridge window. Somewhere between stodgy, gloopy wallpaper paste, and insipid milky liquid, there's a happy medium of perfect porridge viscosity.
I have yet to find it. Last week I made porridge and it came out of the microwave looking like a swimming pool for oats. I put it back in, gave it another minute and managed to coat the inside of the microwave in sticky porridge. It was as though a tiny bomb had gone off at the Quakers factory.
This week, I've created a substance with the texture of Plasticine and the flavour of cavity wall insulation. It's the only breakfast I have today though, so I have to swallow it.
There must be a perfect ratio of milk to oats! Someone must know what it is!
I'm feeling a little bit brighter today by the way. I'm certainly more determined to win over my silent assailant. I read through another chapter of Proverbs this morning and turned everything I read into a prayer and a decision.
In fact, I think there are a few life-changes I need to make, decisions which will help me train for the battle I have against the shadows.
Meanwhile, I'm crunching through my porridge. Ah well, there's always next time.
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