Some nights the plate is assembled from what is already in the kitchen. Eggs. Fruit. Bread. Whatever did not require a plan.
I’m not going to tell you this meal did anything. It’s just what was on the plate.
If you came here for a menu, there isn’t one. The record is only that I ate, and that eating counts even when it would not impress anyone.
Not a protocol. Not a before-and-after.
