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Rated: 18+ · Prose · Relationship · #1405490
The night I realized that my food has seen more of the world than I have.
It’s one forty in the morning. It’s taken me approximately fifteen minutes to get this show on the road. I’m alone in my room and can’t sleep which isn’t a surprise because I haven’t been sleeping lately. Actually, I have been sleeping but at all the wrong times. I’m still alone in my room and there’s not really much to say, not really much to do, not even really much to think about. I can smell my sweaty clothes in the corner and I’ve been mindlessly munching on California grown honey roasted almonds. They sure are delicious, but that is a dangerous proposition. I ate some cake today. And some cookies. And some chocolate.
Those almonds have seen more of this country than I have. They made it here alright. I’ve been thinking about traveling throughout the United States. I think I owe it to my fellow countrymen and countrywomen. If the almonds can make it across the country and still be delicious, perhaps I should give it a go. I just need to find a crate to climb into that will be loaded onto a semi trailer headed for wherever my heart desires and then I will arrive still crunchy and delicious. I will see the country through the dusty residue that coats the inside of a once crystal clear plastic zipper lock storage bag, surrounded by hundreds of other little Me’s out for a trip across this great nation. Perhaps I will arrive at the bedside of someone up who is up too late and needs to quiet her mind. Perhaps I will inspire someone to do something they have never done, but always thought about absently while watching TV or listening to a Janis Joplin song. Maybe I’ll just eat this granola bar and be done with it. That’s how these things always end.

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