AT LEAST THE FOOD

Even thought symptoms have been quite mild, I might as well stop pretending that having Covid was 'no biggie'. The truth is, it walloped me. And it still is doing so. The vertigo was in retrospect and seen with perspective a fairly minor situation, the lack of energy has been far more of a clop upside the head. Maybe I just hadn't read enough about covid to fully understand all the effects; effort drains me.

Like many people, I subconsciously measure my worth as a human being by my mork.
Seen in that light, I'm not at the price for organs and body parts.
More like the value of elements in the body.
Appropriately I feel like compost.
Rotted manure.

Trust me, gentlemen, I am the best thing for your rosebushes. Assuming that your rosebushes need fertilizer, and are looking a wee bit sickly.
Nice roses need to be coddled.


In actual fact I know beans about roses.
Not going to google it.
Effort.

Instead, the obsession with food continues.

Pretty much every meal I've had at home for the past two weeks has involved noodles, of which there is a plentiful supply on hand. I made sure of that years ago, and have continued to augment as necessary. Same with hot condiments and chilipaste. Which latter must be seen as mother's milk. Assuming that one's maternal relative was a capsicum.

Obviously my taste buds have not been affected. My apartment mate experienced a lack of taste for a bit, which fortunately did not last more than a day or two, fading after a while into full deliciousness, experienced when eating her own cooking and feeding the turkey vulture. Who was entirely unaffected, and loved the attention that two adults at home afforded him.

As well as the food. Which was copious.
Two full servings of dinner!
Hog heaven.


The turky vulture has tonnes of energy. I don't. It may take a while before I'm full of beans again. I'm sure you know where exactly this is a pain in.



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