This is what came in the mail yesterday, mailed from Sydney, Australia, by my friend Kathey, who is my separated-at-birth twin. Despite my adoration of sushi, I’d never come across these before, and one of them was enough to convince me that they would appeal more to my husband’s palate. The man gargles salt licorice, so a little fiery burning ball of pea/wasabi hell shouldn’t put him off, right? He ate the entire bag in one sitting, over the course of the evening. And then commented that he might start puking blood any minute. 🙂
I told Kathey what a success they were, and she said, “He ate the ENTIRE BAG IN ONE GO? I can only eat 4 before I find the one that is going to shoot pain through my nose and cause nothing else in the world to matter whatsoever.”
Speaking of nothing else in the world mattering whatsoever, I had my regular Tuesday-morning massage awhile ago, and I have to say that there is nothing like the sensation caused by having someone hit a sore pressure point in your neck and shoulders or forearms. In a darkened room, with no noise except breathing and footsteps and my heartbeat, with my eyes closed, every single bit of my consciousness narrows down to that specific place under my skin where I’m being touched. Nothing else in the world matters or exists. aaaaahhh Only half an hour is practically torture, however. I want more! And afterwards, I want to fall asleep. Having to go back to work is SO UNFAIR.