With an inability to navigate to the grocery store since the first time, and an unsuccessful first venture to the local market, I've been eating somewhat scarcely. It's interesting, the idea of survival versus enjoyment. I love fancy dinners. I love good food. I don't know what it means, that I can live this way or that way. I don't know what it means that I crave both.
I do know that my stomach grumbles and tells me it is empty. I do know that this feeling is equally satisfying.
I am moving beyond physical discomfort. I am filling up with intangible things.
I do hope to fall into a routine. Learn how to cook in a disfunctional kitchen. Learn how to move around the country. Learn how to speak the language and how to run errands. Learn how to haggle at the market.
Learn how to live.
And hopefully, with hope.
I will be full tomorrow- in more ways than one.
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