Monday, October 15, 2007
The Cook, The Thief, His Wife, And My Hunger (Or, Gravy)
I have a habit that's hard to break.
I'm a middle-of-the-night eater.
Sometimes, I wake up for a cracker.
Sometimes, I rise to grab a cookie.
Last night, I got up to get down with an entire burrito, chinese leftovers, and some chocolate truffles...
I honestly don't remember housing the burrito...or the sesame chicken for that matter. I only realized it this afternoon, when I went to the kitchen to scrounge up a fast and easy lunch, only to find I had nothing at all to eat.
In my defense, I'll quote Dolly Parton:
"I don't do anything halfway. I live hard. I love hard. Hell...I even eat hard."
So, I'm chalking up last night's love affair with my refrigerator to living...and eating...hard.
I also feel the need here - for some reason - to repeat a little poem I wrote a while ago:
Gravy is great
Gravy is groovy
When I ain't got meat,
I drink it like a smoothie
Luckily for me, I had no such gravy-for-a-smoothie on hand last night.
Although...if I had, I might have had that burrito for lunch.