Appetite for Distraction – Another Day.

He wakes up. He is late. He rushes through his already bedraggled grooming regime and prepares his lunch of one piece of fish and carrots and olives because that is all he has in his fridge and he cannot afford to eat out for lunch and anyway it is expensive and less healthy if he does so. It seems to him like he just closed his eyes to go to sleep a blink ago. He runs out of the house for the bus and realises too late that he has left the lunch he has made in the fridge. He will have no lunch today but he will compensate by drinking extra coffee too much coffee with chocolate in it. He listens to NPR on his little radio and they are still talking about Planned Parenthood and the government interfering in the right of religious groups not to give abortion rights or contraception help to their employees. It seems like there is no argument to him but he is from Europe and things are done differently there. Not always better, just differently. He goes to CVS to get some lunch but ends up buying a blueberry yoghurt and some Hershey’s cookies and cream drops and a toffee bar the name of which he cannot remember and some granola. He eats the granola and the yoghurt for lunch and feels good about himself and then eats the chocolate as well and feels indifferent about himself because it’s just chocolate and it’s not like he has raped or murdered a stranger he has just eaten chocolate. There is no need to feel guilty about eating chocolate at noon on a Wednesday. He waits for the rush hour to end so that he can spend less money getting home so that he gets home later than he wants to and he reads on the train and the bus and he eats the granola that he bought whilst reading rabelais and listening to npr and he marks himself in those actions as a particular kind of person but he doesn’t think he is a particular kind of person. He gets home and he eats some meat and potatoes and he gets into his pyjamas and he thinks sadly that btjunkie has closed down because he really liked free information for his kindle and his ipod and his hard drive.

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The Sleepcoat League

Armchair anthropologist, sometime scribe, freelance philosopher, amateur artist, part-time poet, musical maven, alliteration aficionado.

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