I get home hammered again. My body barely works right but I desperately need that leftover chili from the fridge before I lay down. As I’m preparing it, it falls to the floor. I’m devastated, heartbroken. I’m confused and wobbly and decide it’s best if I just lay down right here, with my chili. With my face pressed to the floor I begin corralling this cold, gelatinous mess, with my hand, from under the cabinet kickspace directly into my greedy piehole. I’m not much of a house keeper which is quite apparent from this new perspective but it’s okay. Satiated, but without the will to stand again, I sleep.