Where the hell have I been? Usually, I feel the need to blog about the things I consume, but I have been feeling a little unmoved.
Un- every word that expresses enthusiasm.
It appears that I have lost track of the week, the time and possibly people in my life. My diet since the schnitzel night has pretty much been toast, raw vegetables and dip.
And to add shame, not dip that I have made, but dip bought from the market.
Boring, plain Tzatziki. That really isn't that hard to make, at all.
It isn't that I am avoiding eating interesting things or blogging about it. On Wednesday I even went to the night market, but I only watched my friend eat a burrito, while I guzzled sangria and beer.
And really, it isn't worth taking a photo of because sangria is sangria, even if it is served to you in a plastic cup and watered down to shit with lemonade.
Hell, I did a market-shop yesterday and what have I been doing with my produce?
I rip out a rib of celery or a carrot and chew on it.
I have gotten to the point of laziness where I will toast some bread, but not bother to wash a utensil, so I just salt my bread without adding oil or butter.
My housemate asked me why I didn't at least add vegemite, and other than the fact that I prefer promite, I told him it was because I can't be fucked even using a knife, don't even talk to me about washing it.
What the hell is wrong with me?
It isn't that I am lazy, hell, I have been going to the gym every day, and on a couple of days, twice.
It isn't hormones, for those of you with your heads up your chauvinist arses.
It isn't that I am so busy I have no time for food.
It isn't that I am stressed, I am unemployed for fuck's sake.
Hmm, I am just going to blame it on me being hijacked by life.
So, I will leave you with a photo which I love because it gives you such a wrong impression simply because of perspective. It was taken a few years ago by the man who gave me the line on my rib.
But really, it isn't that bad.
That is also kind of what he reminded me of with that line he gave me, too.