Today I will live off the fat of the land.
Not as Thoreau would of course; no, not with dignity and spiritualism. Mine task is set before me by my own sloth and squander. I have spent all my money on a tattoo and won't be paid until tomorrow. Also, I have not transformed any of the healthful, organic meat or produce in my refrigerator into nourishment. Instead, the life I choose today is that of a rodent; eating things left out by people. Candy from the receptionist's desk is how I break my fast. Lunch will surely be salty and saturated with fats.
I should be more disturbed.
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