As I stood in the kitchen at 10:40 in the evening, I only had one thought in my head:

I am hungry, but I do not know what to eat.

Believe me when i say that this is a very, very unusual thought for me. usually, when I am hungry, I am quick at grabbing the nearest bag of pasta, or meat from the fridge, and creating a meal that would obviously be too big for myself. I could broil a steak, make a simple butter sauce with some pasta, or just consume a bowl of granola with organic yoghurt. I am a man with simple needs.

I opened the fridge door and pantry cupboard for the third time, hoping for some inspiration as I felt my stomach growling. I had just made a Publix run after work today, to pick up the staples, but I still couldn’t help but feel uninspired by the stocked shelves. I find that fucking tragic.

Maybe it’s just the horrible flu I am recovering from, but I seem to be suffering from a severe case of lack of appetite.
(This might ironically be a metaphor for my lack of inspiration in the creative arts nowadays. no matter how much I try to stock my shelves, I still can’t seem to be able to pull something up to par off.)