It was a few days that food did not make me happy. No matter what I chose to have for supper, breakfast or lunch, I wanted to discard it after two bites. Different tastes did not taste different, just equally boring.
Were I somebody more concerned with her figure than pleasure in life, I should have been happy. But food has a big part in my edonistic concept of joy. I don't care about quantity but I value qaulity and diversity. Therefore over the past two weeks I experimented with unusual flavors and foods. But I was still unhappy.
Until tonight. Coming back from my night walk with Moki and having decided to kick back and stay home instead of the movies, I finally open the jar of Armenian jam that my friend Litty brought over about a month ago. Notice, generally speaking, I dislike jam. Any kind of jam tastes too sweet to my buds. And if it wasn't for my unusual dissatisfaction with any other kind of food, Litty's jam would probably sit in thepantry forever.
It smells like rose water and it tastes heavenly.I love food that smells good. I spread a thin film of it on a tea biscuit and accompanied it with organic lemon tea infused with fresh mint from the garden. And I feel GREAT now, reassured that I did not lose my ability to enjoy one of the finest and simplest pleasures of life. I'm thinking about pouring some of the tea in my hot bubble bath and call it a night.
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