Cooked for myself. I don't do that often enough, and I realize it every time I do. It's a little thing, but it grounds me. Found myself wondering what it was like for my mother to cook for us, to know she was feeding her family. Well, more often than not, it was likely a pain in the ass. But still. Enjoying that my place still smells like fresh baked bread. Lots of evening commitments this week, so tonight was the night to cook.