- eating my neighbor’s stew that has chicken drum sticks and yuca and eating the cartilage, chewy, skin-y bits and all, my nose now fully perfused with the meaty smell
- getting my mom to order at least one box of boneless buffalo wings from buffalo wild wings
- using my disposable gloves from when i cut my fingertip off and had to shower with the gauze dressing still on to squish and mix my butterflied chicken breasts with curd, chopped chipotle chilies, adobo sauce, onion powder, cumin and salt to marinate over night and sear on my cast iron and finish cooking in the oven
being very humbled by this 0 to 1 mile program. why is swimming so hard but also a lil… 👀 addicting. in a terrible way. i feel awful when i swim, but also after a while, i feel like i should apply to be a lifeguard in a european coastal town. so much of it is about rhythm and breath
you can also say that about tennis, basketball, maybe volleyball. i have not played a challenging tennis match in weeks. it’s making me long to have my butt kicked just so i feel something.
...i am not only in my feelings, but have a sick, symbiotic relationship with them, they are inside me, and i inside them and it has been so long and it feels so unfamiliar but also a little bit like a homecoming
how come the well (my brain) is still so poisoned (convinced that external ideas of a good time in direct opposition to my own are what we need to think about all the time every day 24/7)
good news is that i know that a multi-day romp of moodiness is what people commonly refer to as pms
bad news is that my body still wants to treat every threatening emotion as if it were life threatening and plan for the apocalypse