And reflects on an empty stomach.
Among the cruelest things about not eating enough for a long time, besides how much it limits one’s wardrobe choices:
A) It heightens one’s sense of smell considerably. I haven’t looked this up, and am too lazy to do so now, but I suspect this is an evolutionary throw-back. We creatures need to be able to sniff out the food we need to survive. In New York, with its countless food vendors lining the streets, the olfactory assault is almost too much to take. It’s staggering.
B) When one goes without for so long, one’s stomach shrinks so much one cannot eat much, or sometimes any, of these delicious-smelling foods.
There are a million tasty ways to regain 15 pounds. Sometimes it’s hard to get started, though. “Let’s go to a tapas bar” might be a good proposition. Anyone game?
Some of you already know how much I dislike revolving doors, especially when I have to jump into them when they’re still moving, only to be spat out onto the sidewalk and into moving foot traffic. This is especially true where I work.
I bet whoever invented the revolving door made a fortune, though. And the evil genius probably lived in New York. Again, I’m too lazy to Google this.
One of my favorite people here once asked me why we capitalize “I” but not “you.” I think that’s a fair question.
A colleague recently remarked that one of the marvelous things about animal companions is that they don’t know or care about how bad your day was. When you open the door, their needs supercede yours. They want food, and they want affection, and you know precisely what to do to make them happy. I find comfort in this.
Young Simon is the heaviest he’s been in several months, and the large swath on his belly that the vets shaved for his ultrasound is finally starting to sprout hair. I find comfort in this, as well.