It's probably quite normal. One of my friends who lives in the Berkeley area eats ice cream at three in the morning, which I've never quite understood, and she's not Chinese by any standard. Must be something about the female of the species and ice cream. Nesting behaviour.
Igloos. They long for igloos.
Maybe women remember the last ice age, and subconsciously are avoiding rancid burnt mammoth. This is just a theory. Precisely like the theory about combining Bactine, strong light, and warm weather to fight disease.
Injected, gargled, or otherwise.
The first food I had today was a grilled sausage and toasted cheesy bread, with a liberal amount of hot sauce. Which would also be great for a middle of the night snack, or breakfast with that first cup of coffee.
But it was a late lunch.
My breakfast was strong coffee, followed by a smoke. Which works for me. Both were after taking my pills. Which I keep in a green Peterson pipe box (Standard System smooth, shape 307, P-lip) in the teevee room near the rickety rattan chair.
Early in the day the only people outside are one or two joggers, one or two dog people, and a few elderly Chinese taking a morning constitutional. Obviously I am the only pipe smoker in this neighborhood.
By late morning the street people had arrived. Two regulars, and a meth-freak trying to jimmy-open the parking meters. Plus over a dozen people cluster fudging over at the intersection of Polk Street.
Here it is, tea-time, and I'm wondering which pipe to load up for my next walk around the block. The tobacco is certain, the briar is a question.
Tea afterwards is a guarantee.
The apartment mate has retired to her room with a stuffed animal. Nap time.
I suspect that she will have ice cream later.
TOBACCO INDEX
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