At Least They're Committed

My hunger strike lasted 24 hours. That’s pretty good, don’t you think? I was just waiting for something good to happen to me, but my meds musta finally kicked in because all the sudden it seemed like everything was just peachy. Or maybe it was just because I was hungry. Maybe, just maybe things look rosier when you’re hungry. So I fully intend to go on a hunger strike daily. Why not?

I guess I should backtrack. The hours before my hunger strike were just sucky. Lily didn’t get her financial aid in time and was dropped from her classes, Dante is “sick,” at least he’s sick of school, D is grumpy as usual, Darian’s text messaging isn’t working (yes, that’s a huge crisis), we’re taking care of my mother-in-law after her sickly sister-in-law passed out on her (literally) and damaged her time-and ATV-ravaged neck and back. OK, so now you can see why I went on a hunger strike. It wasn’t against anyone, it was against life itself.

So, why did I go off it? Well, I guess I’m thinking that maybe just surviving is this sort of crap day in and day out, week after week, month after month, year after year, might something worth celebrating. Not that I’m not going to start all over again tomorrow, of course. I’ll eat when things start to look just peachy again.