My meal times have gotten weird lately.
Yesterday I planned to make a nice chicken dish. I whipped up the marinade, using fresh lemons and soya sauce. I’ve made it in the past and it has always been good. Then I reach into the refrigerator and take out the chicken that was about to accept this delicious basting.
It, of course, had gone bad.
I can’t seem to plan my thawings lately. I either take them out of the freezer too soon as demonstrated, or too late so that the meat has a frozen core.
I tossed it and had some frozen fish instead.
Then today, I didn’t have breakfast. It wasn’t by choice. I had a medical appointment that said no food or drink after midnight. I wasn’t as starving hungry as I thought I would be. Luckily before the test they feed you something.
A barium drink. Mmmm. Nucleary.
After the lovely bit of scanning me (and a fire alarm) I horked down some donuts and a muffin from Tim Hortens. But for the rest of the day I’ve been gassy, and my digestive track has been feeling it isn’t appreciated.
I’m supposed to eat high fiber and bran food stuffs. I think you can guess where this is going. Or rather, what isn’t.