After almost a week of eating only home cooked meals, I gave in and ordered takeout. The steak I’d defrosted is a tough cut that needs a night to marinate anyway. I’m a decent cook and I enjoy my own food, but holy shit the heaping pile of shawarma, fries, and falafel the nice delivery driver left on my porch was heaven. There was so much of it! And it was so terribly unhealthy! I feel like a gluttonous heathen basting himself in the decadent excretions of some vile pagan deity promising eternal gastrointestinal fulfillment.
But tomorrow’s steak and zucchini is going to be good too. Tomorrow’s shit? Probably not so much.
I finally finished Fire Emblem: The Three Houses. It’s a good enough mix of social RPG time management bullshit and solid strategy that I’ve already started a second run using a different house.
Connecticut and Ne allowing restaurants to include alcoholic beverages with takeout meals. So what the fuck, Massachusetts? No, the pilgrims would not approve, but they’re all dead so let’s get some god damn drinks.
Is the Easter Bunny also expected to distance socially? Egg hunting just got a lot more complicated.