This week has been diabolical. I ran into a bit of a tradgedy which rocked me to my core. I have retreated inside the house, to the comfort of food and my four walls. I got back to work on Thursday and promptly purchased a 96oz container of 7-eleven coffee. I know damn well that this was WAY TOO MUCH COFFEE, but hell, after surviving a close call sexual violation, I feel myself slipping back to the girl I had been. This girl was a purist in a whores clothes, she became all the things that hid the gentle heart, she was untouchable in the ways men longed to touch her. Well I drank about half the container to keep me awake as I had not slept all night. I do not feel like eating properly, nor do I feel like counting or burning calories. I reach home and prepare my son to journey to Queens alone for the 1st time. I go to an event, then return back to the safety of my abode. Today, I cannot stand the smell outside. I am in need of comfort, but no one stops their lives to see about yours. I dial the one number that I KNOW will answer...
Papa Johns. My original intent is to eat max like 2 slices...yeah, right. I'm done with the pie in 7 hours. In 10 hours I have creamated the pizza, the wings (10) and 2 20oz. Sprites. Today, I do not care. Tomorrow is another day. Today I want the pain to go away.
No recipe today guys, I do not feel like cooking.
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