Oh, a supper indeed.

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I had meat thawed.  No need to wash heavy pots, cook other than to light the grill, so I did.  A few brots and a steaklette.  Nothing fancy, but a meal of real food.  I also did have the fatted coffee.  Actually, it was that which got me going enough to... seek.  The warmth, in my hands.  I took turns holding it.  Both hands are weak, had to change  hands anyway.

The food, warm, meaty, fatty, fed some... need, deep inside, when I am hurt.  Of spirit more than body, for I could do so little, and less successfully.  But the flesh is battered.  Real food helps.  Now I will, definitely, go on to bed.  And pray, probably right on into dreams.  I wonder how many other people do that, or just a few of us freaks?  Whatevs, good night.