Saturday January 3 2015

Ana Through the Doorknob Hole (January 3 2015)[i]

Waking up at 10:30 a.m.

Irish Oatmeal with Cinnamon, Maca Powder, Maple Syrup, Chia Seeds, Strawberries, Blueberries, and Almond Milk. Coffee with Cream and Honey.

All day shift at China Wok.


PB&J (using the dipping method). Potato Chips. Pu-erh Tea.

The day continues steadily and without ceasing.

Antique Station Wagon (January 3 2015)

Pondering the idea of starting a café dedicated to grilled peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and other innovative ways to consume PB&J's.

The sight of this soda machine really gets my blood boiling...

Poison Calories (January 3 2015)

The soda industry would like you to believe your health is their top priority by encouraging you to count the calories in their sugary death drinks. "Check Then Choose"? Don't be a slave. If you choose then you lose. Seriously, just walk away and make your own pop. Even if you choose the water, which at an obvious zero calorie count, you're still succumbing to a scam. For the price of a single water bottle I can fill three gallons of purified water.

Foggy night.

Honey Crisp Apple.

I'm losing it, my mellow mood, or rather I'm transforming into robot mode. Swinging open the driver's door countless times – marching up to the customer's door – climbing those stairs – riding those elevators and hitting the lobby buttons – hitting the brakes – waiting at stoplights – turning corners. It goes on and on and on. At the end of the night my deliveries tally up to 40, almost double what I would do on a normal day.

Back home after 11 p.m.

Tofu with Broccoli, Carrots, Onions, and Rice.

Watching A Walk Among the Tombstones (2014).

We still haven't retrieved Ana's bed yet so she's under the covers in mine. Meanwhile, downstairs I mix up a homemade batch of almond milk. Kevin and Richie have been drinking. They're both enjoying the new Rick's diner booth. Kevin of course is making it his mission to act obnoxious around me by getting all up in my business. He's lighting his cigarettes on our electric stove because he can't find a lighter. After taking his time lighting it he puffs it a couple times. I lecture him about smoking in the house and angrily kick him out of the kitchen.

Me: "You're stressing me out man!"

Sleep 3:30 a.m.

[i] Images by me.

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