Desperate times, desperate measures.

[bdar]

I think the illness is gone but the symptoms still linger, like drunks at a bar long after the lights have been turned on and the bartenders have begun yelling in less cordial tones that one does not have to go home but can no longer stay there.

Am considering abandoning the vegetarianism, momentarily, to devour the can of chicken noodle soup in the pantry.

This might make me a bad person.

I might be okay with that.