Survival

If I lived alone, how well would I survive? I'll tell you a few situations that have happened to me. After reading this, you can answer the above question.

Scenario one: Home alone one day while in college I decided I would make something to eat. Sounded like a good enough idea. I was hungry, make food, eat it. The idea must have come from watching TV. Making flour tortilla was the plan. Problem is that I don't have cooking experience.

When I make cool-aid I measure out the sugar exactly. Get eye level to the counter so the sugar doesn't heap over the measuring cup. That kind of exact.

Flour tortilla should be easy. Pulled out a frying pan, got the flower, and some kind of oil. Looking over my supplies, I figured I was ready. Yeah, I fried the flower. That was all there was to it, right? Now, looking back, I'm thinking there is more to it. So what did my tortillas taste like? Fried flour. This is not a recommended dish.

Scenario two: Cari and the kids went out of town for a week. Looking back on my previous cooking experiences, the plan was mostly frozen foods. The only meal I cooked that week was hamburgers. These hamburgers were monsters. When I opened the package of hamburger, it never occurred to me that I could re-wrap some of it, and place it in the freezer. I cooked the entire bit. It was difficult to grasp one of these burgers, the height was too much. I ate three of them. Laying on the living room floor, with the TV on, I couldn't move.
That's not scenario two. No. A much larger, new task, was to be taken on this particular week. I still had to be at work every day this week. Laundry had to be done. Oh, man! This is even funnier, because at the time I was selling appliances! I had seen laundry done many times, up to the point of getting the clothes in the washer. What happens after that? I sat down and read the directions on the laundry soap. I was not going to have suds everywhere like the "Brady Bunch". Hot water? Cold water? Can't you just turn this thing on? My clothes got clean that day, but it was a very unfamiliar and uncomfortable process. My clothes were still wrinkled going to work that week. After the stress of working the washing machine, I didn't dare plug in the iron.

Scenario three: Not that long ago, I was asked to vacuum the living room. I wasn't really excited about doing this, but it was the least I could do. I'm serious, it was the least I could do. Retrieved the vacuum out of the hallway. Plugged it in. This is where the problems started. This thing does not have a giant "on" button. Not one that says, "on". Cari was checking up on me, she peered around the corner, "Is everything ok over there?"
"Yeah. I know how to work a vacuum.", I laughed trying to assure her. Now, how does thing come on? I found a button and pushed it. The handle came loose in my hand as it hinged from the body of the vacuum. That counted as a step forward. It felt like ten minutes had passed as I looked this machine over. I heard Cari laugh and looked up. She was checking on me again. I guess too much time had passed, and she had not heard the vacuum turn on yet. "Want me to tell you how to turn that it on?", she asked.
"I can turn it on, I was just checking something.", I certainly did not sound so confident this time. Eureka! Big blue button on the side and the thing came to life. I vacuumed the living room, and did a darn good job. Little bit of smoke coming from the machine, I chalked up to some dust.
Next day, Cari was trying to vacuum the bedroom. She now tells me the vacuum is broken. It worked for me, that's all I know.

You may now have enough information to answer, "How well would I survive on my own."