Lately, I've been stacking plates. I counted them earlier.
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven. Seven plates.
There's food in the freezer that was bought over twelve weeks ago and hasn't even been opened. There's consumables that were thrown in the trash after being in the fridge long past their sell by date. They were bought months ago, too. There's a box of unopened chocolates sitting on the shelf that were given to me in March.
Is that all? Seven plates for almost two months worth of meals. My body is begging for nutrition and I'm starting to become somewhat shaky. It wont be long before the dizzyness starts too. I can feel you, Ana. You're trying to sneak your way back into my life, tip toeing towards me ever so slowly in the hopes of returning unannounced. Hoping to surprise me so that when you show your face clearly again, it's too late for me to do anything about your visit. I can feel you.
