As an undergraduate in the last few weeks of my last semester, I have realized that the only reason I don't have scurvy is the liberal application of Centrum® vitamins and the occasional packet of Emer-Gen-C®.
I haven't eaten a vegetable in several weeks, and my bones are probably so porous that I could take off and fly like a little bird.
I remember vegetables, the delicate curl of a leaf of frisée, or the emerald florets of broccoli...
I did eat two leaves of iceberg lettuce today, but they are so devoid of nutrition that they probably made my body cry wracking sobs of betrayal, shuddering impotent rage at the teasing cruelty of my food choices.
Ramen noodles seem to be my convenience food of choice, "Oriental Flavor" being the only one I indulge in. Three minutes in boiling water and back to writing. Plus, they're so aesthetically pleasing, convoluted noodles extruded in neat sinusoidal rows, unfolding in the pot.
Peanut butter and jelly on twelve-grain bread is a close second--a healthy meal, closer to veggies--reasoning that peanuts are a legume, and legumes are next to vegetables in some taxonomies of nutrition... jelly is a serving of fruit, in the same way that the Ketchup Packet is a single serving of a vegetable.
I really must get more money, or at least steal some fruit so I don't have a psychotic break due to my brains liquefying like I have some sort of prion disease, Bovine Spongiform Encepholopathy (Creutzfeldt-Jakob disease is the human variant, but I like the plosive sounds of the former better) or voices telling me to eat the neighbor's dog... I kid, I kid, I love Brinkley.
Someone buy me a sack o' limes so my teeth don't drop out of my head.
tink tink tink... teef in the sink.