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When cleaning I found the other half of a Ritter chocolate bar that went missing. I refrained from demolishing it for a while. It got eaten late at night which caused even less sleep than normal. I got up anyway and went to a farmers market. I did my best to get edible stuff. I went to a large supermarket and did my best to get stuff from there in spite of what seems like the store's many bad behaviors. Did get some fresh lamb chops. Hope those go well. Did make a ham and cheese sandwich and stuff to go with it to eat later.
What would be most comfortable for me would be to have meals made for me by someone who really knows how, out of good ingredients, like in a care home or something, or a hotel or a special place where that could happen. I made a crab salad sandwich with veggies and fruit. I dropped the leftover imitation crab on the floor. Sigh. Other stuff got dropped, but it was washable. I tried. I bought an expensive fish fillet two days ago and wanted to eat it today--but it was no good. It was fished locally and brought into the store the day I bought it. I keep at it a but I can't help but see that the forces in the world don't seem to want us to be fed or for our experiences of buying food to be pleasant or fair. They used to be more so. It makes me sad and makes my life feel like a desperate underground struggle with forces that don't want me to be fed and want to extract all of my money. I try not to know this and live above it, endlessly maneuvering, as if mentioning this would make it worse.
What would be most comfortable for me would be to have meals made for me by someone who really knows how, out of good ingredients, like in a care home or something, or a hotel or a special place where that could happen. I made a crab salad sandwich with veggies and fruit. I dropped the leftover imitation crab on the floor. Sigh. Other stuff got dropped, but it was washable. I tried. I bought an expensive fish fillet two days ago and wanted to eat it today--but it was no good. It was fished locally and brought into the store the day I bought it. I keep at it a but I can't help but see that the forces in the world don't seem to want us to be fed or for our experiences of buying food to be pleasant or fair. They used to be more so. It makes me sad and makes my life feel like a desperate underground struggle with forces that don't want me to be fed and want to extract all of my money. I try not to know this and live above it, endlessly maneuvering, as if mentioning this would make it worse.
