I have no vegetables in the house. Except onions. But they're not really nutritious. I would know because I like them. I had a peach with my spare ribs and rice tonight. Because I couldn't find anything else of nutritious value. Rice and meat would have been OK before, but something strange is happening to me nowadays. I think it's guilt. Or conscience. Or age.
It all seemed so easy before. I would occasionally do the dishes and put a few things in the shopping cart (Cracked pepper Triscuits. You've got to have those) but for the most part, counters were miraculously wiped of grease, toilet bowls magically scrubbed, and bills automatically paid. Now I have to do them- I who never worried about vegetables except picking them out of the chicken soup. I don't think I make a very good adult. Which wouldn't be so bad except that I can't seem to shrug off chores like I used to. I can't even sleep past 9am. I think I care. Enough so that I've been contemplating where to find someone to clean out the gutters. Enough so that I think I need to eat ice cream for breakfast to balance out all this responsible behavior.
No comments:
Post a Comment