I used to really like grilled cheese – back in the day before saturated fat and carbohydrates existed.  I liked it with just a little butter on both sides, toast the bread in the skillet until the full fat Kraft cheese became really melty, and maybe a little scorched.  I think a little burning gave a better flavor.

Of course, that’s when we made cookies from scratch, created spaghetti sauce with at least a cup of sugar, and gravy was made with the oil that we’d fry the chicken in.

A long, long, time ago when what food was created from didn’t matter as much as it tastes.

It’s still like that for a lot of people.
With McDonald’s stock closing at around $162 dollars today, I don’t think the fast food biz is going anywhere.  Well, at least not anywhere soon — and that’s okay. Growing up, I was all about the chicken nuggets.   When I worked at a McDonalds while in high school, fresh hot fries and a double cheese burger (extra cheese) was my thing.

If I knew then what I knew now, would I still have ate it?
— Probably not.   Well….   Younger people feel like they’re immortal.    I know I certainly did.  I like to think I’m still immortal, but more in a mortal way.  It’s complicated.

Yeah, I know that I write a lot about food.     That taps into the whole body image/self conscious stuff.

I’m trying to put my energy into something I like and think it productive that’s not exercise, food, or games.  That’s why I’m writing.   At one point I had a rough draft of a book completed.  I volunteered to be an editor for zines.  I was an entertainment columnist.   –  I had the time of my life.

So, starting out – write about what you know… food – games – family – work.
I’m getting there though.   I’m working on connecting the dots in my head.

Speaking of work, the next course starts tomorrow.
Yay.   Well, at least I had a pretty descent break.

Saw Doc S today.    She said hearing voices during the time between sleeping and waking is uncommon, but nothing to really be alarmed about.  It’s usually not a prelude into something worse, but she wants to see me back in a month instead of the usual month and a half.

It probably has something to do with the new anti-depressant she gave me – Trazodone.  I’m supposed take it as needed and it’s supposed to not interfere/compliment the Prozac I’m already on.     I don’t know what Trazadone’s deal is, but I should probably research it.

At one point, I was really upset that I had to take anti-depressants.    I just was.   It’s like I didn’t know my own mind or I couldn’t be trusted with it.    Then, earlier this year, I tried to wean myself off of them and totally failed.  I’m just going to have to come to terms that I’ll be taking some form of anti-depressants for the rest of my life.

So, what’s one more?

Anyway…   I got this starter idea for a story.   I’m not sure where it goes, but it starts with a hooker at a bar.    The thing is that she has nothing to sell.  She’s not young, feels no pleasure, and isn’t impressed by stories or the size of a guy’s dong.

She has no marketable skills and really can’t contribute to society in any real meaningful way, so what does she do except consume and live an unproductively bleak life.  – Years wasted.   Opportunities squandered.

Another easy way to begin is with a wedding or a funeral.
Beginnings and endings.    Course, some people would say that they’re the same.

Just ideas.
I got to start somewhere.

Suggestions?