I'm Tired and Way Too Full
I was at work tonight past suppertime. So far past, in fact, that my resistance crumbled and I heeded the siren call of the microwave popcorn, for which I am truly sorry. It’s a beastly food, and it brings out the beastliness in me. For reasons never quite clear to me I find it impossible to eat popcorn in anything less than great honking fistfuls, scattering detritus both popped and unpopped liberally about the landscape. Orts on the carpet, kernels in my lap. Whose bright idea was it to make microwave popcorn the designated after-hours office food? What could be worse for a computer-using office dweller than greased up buttery fingers? I wipe and wipe on the napkins filched from the yuppie food court down the street, and still I fear I’m leaving forensic evidence on my keyboard.
After all that, there was steak and taters waiting for me at home. Mama Dog, my Mama Dog. She without whom I would long ago have succumbed to the scurvy. I’m fairly sure there are still kernels erupting in my stomach, but I clean my plate with all due gratitude. Good food, good food, but bismillah! Where to put it? Now I sit at the home computer, fingers still vaguely slick, thinking I just need to blether a few lines in the faversham to keep my streak alive, but all I have on my mind is my tight drum of a stomach and the warm marital bed awaiting me if I can just put aside this particular compulsion for a bit and call it the end of another long, long two-day work week.
After all that, there was steak and taters waiting for me at home. Mama Dog, my Mama Dog. She without whom I would long ago have succumbed to the scurvy. I’m fairly sure there are still kernels erupting in my stomach, but I clean my plate with all due gratitude. Good food, good food, but bismillah! Where to put it? Now I sit at the home computer, fingers still vaguely slick, thinking I just need to blether a few lines in the faversham to keep my streak alive, but all I have on my mind is my tight drum of a stomach and the warm marital bed awaiting me if I can just put aside this particular compulsion for a bit and call it the end of another long, long two-day work week.
posted by PapaDogDuvalier | 10:45 PM
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