Crying over Chicken

When I’m sick, I’m emotional. If you know me personally, you know this, and I’m sorry for that.

I’m writing today from Phoenix, well, Ahwatukee, “the world’s largest coul-de-sac.” It’s very…. beige. Anyways, I’m here because as I switch careers, my sister knew this was the perfect time for me to visit (aka not have a valid reason to stay out of Arizona). After a miserable nine hour delay in LAX (cough fuck you delta fuck you cough), I made it to Phoenix with a new friend-strep.

DUDE, this shit sucks so hard. It didn’t hit me until day two, which is unfortunate for many reasons:

  • can’t hug/cuddle/interact with my nieces

  • can’t fucking move my head/neck

  • can’t go outside, and had limited access inside the house

  • missed my niece’s 5th birthday party

  • missed seeing literally all of my nieces and nephews and sisters and CAKE.

and then the one that really fucked with my head: I bought myself groceries and they were going to go to waste. why? because contamination and germs and shit.

I cried. I cried HARD about food waste, especially a whole chicken that could have caused a secondary onslaught of tummy issues. It seems silly and unnecessary, but money and food wasted while emotionally compromised leads to a whole lot of tears.

Though the chicken is a lost cause, I can finally keep food down and nibbling, but I have to come to terms that, with my trip ending tomorrow, I will have to leave a bunch of food here. Hoping it will be enjoyed, but still sad. Anyways, I’m emotionally repaired- not completely, I’m on a ‘Jane the Virgin’ kick so nope nope nope, but hoping someone will enjoy the food!

if yall came here for a recipe….

PBJ Sandwich

make the damn sandwich.

Nae Schnee