Cure

There are days when things aren't going your way.
There have been such days.
Yesterday wasn't one. But that doesn't mean it doesn't matter.
Although yesterday was tiring. In what way?
Hmmm...well I have been pretty social, those are from my poor standards so that might not come up to the collective standards of social-'ness'.
But then I had to roam around pleasing people from every hang out invites. And hence the wandering nomad was 'busy'.
Felt drained at the end of the day. A bit strung out in a way.

I reach home.
Slouch on the big leather cushion that was my sofa.
Making random contemplative thoughts in my head in order to keep it busy from the withdrawal symptoms of being suddenly idle.
That sudden emptiness strikes you then.

The thing that happens at the end of a big event. Yes it is technically a withdrawal syndrome of a euphoria of a passing event.
Like goin on a trip with friends for the weekend and then suddenly getting back to work on a monday.
That feeling.

What could be the cure?
I am no Doctor Phil, but then a voice from a kitchen beckoned me.
An invitation to the dinner table.
And there it was. The cure, on the table.
No ayurveda. No homeopathy. No allopathy.
Three words: Mom made Spaghetti.

And that was it. The joy was back in my eyes.
(I think a tear rolled past my cheek).
And I was jumping like a six year old who got the remote controlled car he wished for.

Minutes later I was wiping the plate clean (which is considered pretty rude in China, or so I have read)...the foodie high was on.

-
Spaghetti Junkie