Favorite White Spot. Favorite table. Let’s do this.

Good gravy, am I hungry. Been undereating again. It is always a product of my struggle with eating when I have no appetite.

The part of me that knows I have to eat or suffer the consequences gets corrupted by the mindless resistance to eating sans appetite saying “Well okay, we will eat, but surely we don’t have to eat as much as usual, right? We eat too much anyhow. And hey, we can wait a little longer to eat…you know, just long enough that you will get involved in something and forget?”

And the next thing I know,  my blood sugar is dangerously low because I haven’t eaten in gen hours and I feel like an idiot.

I have a fascinating meeting of accents happening at a nearby table. We have a young black guy with a deep American Black accent (low on consonants, high on extremely articulated dipthongs) meeting a British lady in her fifties with a Pre-chav working class London accent.

And I think they are on a first date. How cool is that?

I have never heard either accent live and in the wild, so to speak, so I cannot help eavesdropping. My ear automatically orients on the unusual and fascinating accents, so I cannot help but hear snatches of their conversation.

Black dude is a band that does Motown covers. Bitchin’. I was just tested on that earlier today.

Yes, today was test day in History of Popular Music. And of course, I knew it would be today, but of course, I forgot, so of course, I did not study.

And that will cost me marks. I can only hope that whatever angels of luck and test brightness that got me through the multiple choice Psychology exams last semester were with me today.

I am out and about today in order to cash my cheque. (OMG, you think. So that is what the title is about! What a clever writer.)

Normally, my cheque arrives Wednesday and I cash it Thursday,. But this month, it didn’t show up til today, Friday. So I decided that I would go out and get it cashed all by myself.

You know, because I’m a big boy now.

Black dude is having a culture issue with the White Spot menu and their definition of “pork chops” as opposed to what he expects. He has my sympathy. I had trouble with West Coast menus at first too.

Well, my meal is over, and I am tired of typing with one finger.  Seeya when I get home.

(–)

Home now. Hmmm, only 433 words. Felt like a lot more. Damned one finger typing.

Anyhow. Black dude.

The problem was that, where he comes from, pork chops are cooked a certain away and come smothered in fried onions. The kind White Spot makes are cooked some weird trendy way and come with sauteed onions. So I am thinking this poor guy ordered the one thing on the menu that looked familiar to him, and it turned out to be totally weird and, to him, inedible.

The White Spot people were totally cool about it, though. They totally comped him.

He will have to work through it like I did. At first it was a culture shock, then I merely resented it, then I learned to read the menu with an eye toward figuring out what the “normal” food was and what to ask the server if you are afraid that it might be booby-trapped with weirdness.

Of course, I am a sophisticated West Coast diner now. I even try entirely new things sometimes, which for me is a big deal, as I have been a conservative eater my whole life.

It’s weird, though, that I adapted to Mexican food pretty much instantly when I lived in Silly Con Valley, way before I ever set foot in White Spot. I suppose that might have been because it was all entirely new to me, so I had no expectations of how it was supposed to be.

Whereas the menus up here in the GVRD are full of that “comfort food with a twist” type things that sound like you will like them but they add some weird thing to it and ruin it.

In an odd way, it makes me want to open an Acadian food restaurant here in the GVRD, just so I will be the one familiar with the cuisine and everyone else will be all “WTF is a fricot?”.

It’s chicken soup….. WITH A TWIST!

It’s only just starting to sink in now that I have no class next week. I dunno what the fug I am going to do with all that time. I know I will finally do that deep dive into my course descriptions and try to program as much as I possibly can into my calendar, along with a ton of reminders to make SURE I don’t forget to do and/or study things.

But that’s like…. three hours work, max. The rest of the time? Dunno.

Well, there’s always video games. I got this slick new computer just waiting to play some current-generation games like Fallout 4. (I will have to catch up on 3 too. ) But contemplating a week of doing nothing but wasting my life and my potential on video games depresses me greatly.

So I dunno. Maybe I will conceive of some sort of fun project for me to work on. Or maybe I will finally get around to buying some Splenda and flour and getting back into baking. Or maybe I will go completely insane and macrame myself a twenty foot maroon cocoon and live inside it forever and ever and ever.

Or maybe I will just vegetate through the week like I vegetated through most of my adult life. Blogging and oblivion and waiting for the next thing to happen.

Or maybe I will figure out how to rescue myself from the brutal, biased butchery of my inner accountant who destroys my love before it can be born.

It could happen.

I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.