Break-first

On top of classes with the 9 to 11 year old kids that I’m really beginning to enjoy, especially when they put pen to paper — nay, 2B pencils to paper — and their usual eloquence just won’t translate into written words; On top of marking spelling and dictation and laughing over “sailor” spelt as “sabira”, “carefully” spelt as “carefurry”, and “quieter” spelt as “queyylietie”; On top of all the pleasant meetings we have every morning… I’m beginning to enjoy food again.

Of course, my capacity has shrunk. No more than two eggs and a cup of coffee for breakfast; one full hour to finish a standard lunch size; and something like half a thosai for dinner.

But the point is, a few weeks ago, nothing sweet, savoury, or bitter even, tasted appetizing. So when I had a coco loco donut from J Co last Sunday, and the sweet mass was dripping with every bite, there was a nice warm feeling growing in me — nothing can compare to the warmth of when the boyfriend force feed me carbs, but this is close enough.

I hate how everything now is so tied to him.