Offered to bring French bread and ice cream.
They’re orange. Not sure whether the freshness or bugs and greens make the bigger difference. I suspect freshness. Because the Timechooks mostly live on feed and bananas. (Seriously. I think we’re farming radioactive eggs. Vulva Baby loves peeling bananas almost as much as Nyssa, Mel, and Mickey (née Leela) love eating them. Result: they eat a LOT of bananas.)
As in ill.
As in a virus has invaded my corporeal form and my immune system is valiantly throwing itself upon it like scrawny Steve before he did all those steroids and got the invincible shield.
I’m a little loopy.
Pho has taught me that beef tripe is weird and beef tendon is fucking awesome and totally worth the tripe. I dunno, trust me on that one.
I have ODed in the past two days on “natural” wannabe-cheetos, cashews, frozen white chocolate chips, German butter biscuits, and donuts. The first four are because chewing crunchy foods helps my ears feel better. I have no excuse for the donuts, except 1. donuts, and 2. they were there.
I would kill for a bowl of roasted brussel sprouts, but I don’t have the energy to chop them.
I made broccoli mac’n’cheese just for the crunch of the broccoli.
I would mainline hot chai except it would perforce skip my throat thereby defeating the purpose.
There are approximately 583804 Vietnamese restaurants within two miles of here and not a single one will deliver me pho. I could weep, but my eyes are too scratchy. Probably from lack of pho.
I have the strongest desire today to start chicken stock, beans, yams, chickpeas… Basically all the stocking-up pre-cooking I could possibly need for the next week/month/whenever. Maybe this is what happens when I don’t have a major looming deadline.