This year’s been weird, but I’m learning how to make it less so. I am learning to live well in a wonderful way.
I spent the evening re-writing class notes and re-reading chapters. This isn’t so bad. I am doing my senior year right, baby.
In a flush of confidence, I put the books down and made a sandwich. I made a damned good sandwich, with toast and pickle loaf and salami and plain old American cheese and mayo. I drank an overly large beer along with it, whose label inspired the whole sandwich operation. 4 Hands Pyrus Saison goes well with pork, and the only pork in the house, sadly, was pickle loaf. Bacon came to mind, and carnitas, and picnic shoulder smoked until if falls off the bone.
I had pickle loaf.
It worked with white-pepper and orange infused beer, so my belly is happy. My mind is happy, too, because I found a way to enjoy what was in my fridge to the fullest. Live within my means, love my life, eat good things, smile more. I watched a few old episodes of Breaking Bad while I ate that sandwich. Add to the completely un-guilty pleasure of the evening. The last one is playing now, as I write, barely awake in this roadside treasure of a recliner. Yard sale? Flea market? Something like that.
Now, I’ll go to bed on my perfect square of a mattress, alone for now but in the right place at the right time, and sleep well. A full stomach and a big beer will make sleep deliriously easy. Squares make for good sleep, too.
Sometimes, simple things make a day doable. Some days, that’s all I need.