I will eat waffles soon. Why do I put it off? I want to eat. I am hungry . . .
I'm not sure what I shall do to-day. I do know that I feel as if a billion tiny praying mantises have crawled up my nose and are now making crude cave paintings on the other side of my forehead.
To-day, I'm sure, shall involve spinach. But what else? What Else?
In any event, I do not feel I have the cache of stomachs for a real emotional investment in anything much to-day, except I'm feeling a sort of subdued passion. Gak.