It dawned on me today as I found myself in an old, familiar position of being stuck in a place I did not want to be, surrounded by wet things and scents that call into question my city’s promise that they “turned the taps off” and “rerouted the 60-mile block of fatal licorice-water” cruising west down the Ohio: since giving up meat thirteen months ago, I’ve lost that touchstone of male living that is holding back tears on a foreign toilet, swearing to start dieting as soon as this is over, pondering if one can truly get crabs from a toilet seat, maddening at the sound of a fellow man being denied entry into your painful-but-as-of-now-safe situation atop the sewer line by the lock on the door.
While I can’t claim to be a vegan, nor would I really want to use terms like that since they end up being more divisive and take away from actual growth, I can say that one of the numerous positive side effects I’ve experienced since giving up meat consumption and greatly reducing dairy intake is a decrease in restroom uncertainty and rates of use. I’ve no real explanation for today’s slip back into the fighting pits, but it appears to be a one off and wow are we really talking about this no we’re not.
Eat healthy y’all. Do your best.