There are few things that please my inner domestic housewife more than making stock from scratch using the kitchen scraps I've saved up instead of just throwing away.

Pretty frequently I still feel pleasantly surprised to look down and realize there’s a pair of boobs there. Similar experience walking by a mirror and wondering who the heck that pretty girl is. It’s nice.

Or at least, it has been noted by multiple people who live with me that I am happiest when bouncing around in the kitchen and singing along to old music while making lots of food at once. Nice long skirt is required for this. Really playing up the trope and going barefoot in the kitchen is a seasonal option.

Long term I really just need a living situation in a house with two or three people who are happy to let me cook for them.