The Yoo-Hoo machine was empty again today. I'm thinking about having the Mello Yello button exchanged for a second Yoo-Hoo one. Nobody ever gets Mello Yello.
For breakfast, I had pancakes with melted butter and maple syrup poured from paper boats. I felt that twinge of recollection again when I bit the first boat. It wasn't Christmas morning I was remembering, or school, or even libraries. I thought it might have been scout camp, but it wasn't that, either. Something from long ago, with the smell of paper, or maybe bleach. What would that be? It's driving me nuts. Maybe it's false nostalgia, a trick of the mind, like déjà vu.
I ate lunch outside Marcasita's again (fat mushrooms stuffed with ham, cheese, and American Gods, with a batter-fried crane side dish). Afterwards, I went on a little capsule quest, driving around the downtown area in search of Yoo-Hoos. The corner store used to have them, but it's all Frappuccino now. Cold coffee. I seem to remember a time when we poured that down the sink. Both Circle Ks had gone the same way, as had the Chinese store above Fremont's. I settled for some kind of frozen donut shake from Krispy Kreme (wouldn't recommend it. Kind of nauseating.)
Dinner was a garlic bonanza. Next time I make that cream soup, I'm either leaving out the stinkflower, or eating it all on the first day. Something about that combination of ingredients just makes the flavors fester. By the third day, it's like sucking down pure garlic extract. I rinsed out my mouth as best I could, but I think I'd better address people from a respectable distance for the next couple of days. Fortunately, there will be no fourth-day soup. That was the last of Neverwhere, down the hatch. I felt a little queasy after eating. I don't know if it was the paper, or just the garlic. It really was a lot of garlic.