Ganet

1. Breakfast: tea and toast
Lunch : soggy lettuce, parsnip soup, slice o’ ‘I can’t believe it’s not cardboard’ bread, tap water.

2. On the way to work I was dreaming of fluffy pancakes with maple syrup; then throughout the morning it was crusty baguette with goats cheese, juicy white flesh nectarines, coffee éclairs; then as lunch approached I conjured up images of rare steak with shallot butter and sautéed potatoes washed down with a chilled rosé d’Anjou. The afternoon was devoted to ideas of tomato and olive oil bruschetta, then rhubarb crumble and perfectly ripe strawberries.

3. dinner, goddamnit: every single of those things til I burst, twice, and I don’t even care.


4. I wonder what’s going on, though. I’d like to read this as the very outward sign of my newly-found appetite for life, or something; I can’t think of anything I have to compensate for right now, besides the fact that work underfeeds me..and yes, I ma getting some, so it's not that either.

5. There’s no punch line. I’m too full to think.