Food for Thought… or naught(y)

I have just had another few sips/gulps from my freshly-made berry-veggie smoothie.  It is delicious.  But it is not fulfilling what my body needs, somehow – it is not entirely what I want.  It has helped, but it is not sufficient.

As I walk into the pantry, I sigh and ask aloud, “What do I want?… Ugh… I want….” My arms have moved outward and curved downward as the end to the last sentence.  In my peripheral vision, I see that my hands are cupping gently and loosely the area just in front of my pelvis, in front of my uterus and groin.  I say, without having thought about it, “I want warm sex?” and then give a soft snort-sigh at the absurdity of my statement.  I am here for food.  That isn’t food.

Hmm…

Is it?

I consider this a few moments, and then jump further into the absurd: What food is warm, satisfying sex?, I ask myself in my head, as though there were a cookbook somewhere with this information listed, and I am aiming to recall what foods are on the list, like proteins or vitamin-B-rich foods.

To my astonishment, after a few moments, I say, “A soupy broth, poured over a pile…bowl of deeply spiced, veggie-filled, hot quinoa.  Hot.”

Yeah, my thoughts tell me, that’s it.

And I think they must be right.  After all, they are the ones who came up with the concept in the first place.

I guess I’m having hot sex… for dinner tonight…?

(If that isn’t roflcopter, I’m not sure what is.)

Post-a-day 2021

^So fantastically easy, I almost forgot even to comment on it or notice!