At work, I learned a powerful lesson: Man was not meant to subsist on lasagna alone. Someone tell Garfield that after a few meals consisting of nothing but lasagna and possibly some oily laver (kim) as a snack, you’ll get a nasty stomach ache. My first two classes went fine, and I escaped disaster in my third. I took a 15 minute break to buy medicine while someone covered for me. I made a decision to get back into class and finish off the hour. I was feeling pretty good, but when the break between classes rolled by again, I was in the bathroom cursing the person that designed a room with such poor air circulation. I reported in that I’d need a substitute for the rest of the day, and left. Occasionally I approach a state of meditation when riding in a taxi home while sick. Quiet contemplation and a wonder about the nature of the universe. More often than not, it is a panic. "Why are all toilets so far away and will I make it in time?"
I spent the time after work reading, groaning in pain, and generally not wanting to do anything that kept me out of quick reach of a bathroom. My wife came home and made some delicious mushroom soup for me. It was good, but not exactly filling. We both started snacking, and she decided to cook up something we got from her grandmother’s farm:
