I hate it when my dog eats the leftovers of my previously canned soup, and I have to stoop to cereal in case I get hungry again. Some people say you should only eat at specific times of day, but I can only chew food to process when the anxiety of my body wasting away under my stretched-flesh overcomes me, and I shovel something into my mouth.
      When I forgot something on my desk while leaving, I turned around in the snow outside to go back inside at get it. I grabbed a thing, and realized that my boot and left a chunk of snow on the carpet where the only free floorspace in my room leaks through. Later, without wearing socks, I stepped in the puddle I'd accidentally created in the midst of a racing mind, and reminded myself not to stoop so low as to blame myself for what my hands had nothing to do with creating.