"1:08 or The End of the World as We Know It - With Homestyle Vegetables
1:08.
That's what the display on the microwave clock reads as I pull out my cappuccino mug of chicken noodle soup. 1:08 am and I'm eating my first major meal of today. Actually, it's the first meal of yesterday which is still today in my book. It isn't really tomorrow, which is technically today, until I go to sleep. Tomorrow is something that one can only enter if you wake up in it.
I haven't slept yet.
I wonder what meal this is. Is it dinner or breakfast? I can't really say. I christen it "meal" and sit down on the cool tile floor, realizing suddenly as I stir the noodles lethargically that my soup is the breakdown of society - And it came out of my microwave. Under the regulations and expectations of this adolescent dying ground I'm oppressed and repressed and depressed and compressed and stressed till my grasp on the concept of civilization cracks and crumbles and one meal blends into another. The basic order of life that once reigned in the punctual progression of breakfast, lunch, and dinner had degraded into 1 am "meals". Social order is cracking at the seams, sparkling chips bobbing about like gilded droplets of oil floating on the surface of my soup.
I place a spoonful of luke-warm broth and noodles in my mouth and chew thoughtfully on a piece of chicken. Methinks I've read far too much into a can of condensed chicken stock and vegetables.
Damn Lit. classes.
I pull my sweatshirt on and start my Civ, sipping my soup.
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