Granola and kefir for breakfast. Granola and kefir for lunch. Granola, kefir, and apple, a cup of miso soup for dinner. Still hungry.
Drank another glass of water, but I’m still not full… and there, just right there in the corner, tucked into the recycling: the Ching Tao delivery menu.
I cave. Dial hard and fast, just pant out the order into the phone. Slump, defeated, into the couch, flick at the TV remote… wrestling on the screen, fucking wrestling. All and everything flashing back to earlier days with Paul, pizza, playstation, good times and fat bellies… only not enough of one and far too much of all the others.
Hardly hungry anymore by the time the delivery guy shows up, but hell, it’s a fine warm New England mid-December eve, and I’m out on the front porch swing, can’t hardly see my own breath, three layers of PJ’s on, flirting with my lady on the phone.
No granola for breakfast, lunch, and dinner tomorrow. Egg rolls, lo mein, sesame beef and all that will get me through the day. And perhaps I’ll string tomorrow’s lunch out a little longer, head up to the health food place… and buy me a little more kefir.
