I hate when there are three healthy men sitting my the living room while I work alone in the kitchen. It's past time for dinner. No one has asked if they can help. No one has even looked at the pile of dishes that will likely be my first greeting in the morning. My back hurts. I'm hot. I've wrestled with my day, the same as them. Why can't I just sit too?
I'm tempted to let dinner burn a little. I consider spitting into it, but can't quite make myself do it. That would swing too far, something that I hope only happens in the movies.
Does it run too far? Did you ever kitchen-spit in someone's meal?
Should I?
Thank you for listening, jules
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