I don't miss cheesesteaks
I've been having a lot of issues with eating on this haunt up to the Bay.
It started with before I got here, as the news got so oppressive I just said fuck it and went crazy with the bread pudding.
Last night I was saved from gorging myself at 10PM by the fact that the donut shop in Albany which has long been a source of shame/comfort was undergoing construction. Lucky, lucky man.
Today I was thinking about how to regain some composure in the face of old patterns and the general air of misery of the world. Which is when I realized that I don't miss cheesesteaks.
I ate a lot of cheesesteaks in college. Almost every day. I was addicted to the things. I figure I've eaten more than my fair share. Enough that I don't crave them, in the same way that I don't crave Frosted Flakes or Raisin Bran: they're fucking boring.
That's a food I have power over: cheesesteaks.
So long, you greasy suckers.