1 year ago 💘 for day 120, 2020 with 408 words.

Brain fog lunch

My head is foggy today.
It won't run the way it should.
I feel so tired. Maybe I'm hungry?
I should make some food. A grilled cheese maybe.
I walk down the stairs.
Every step a journey.
When I get to the kitchen I stop.
There are dishes piled all over. They'll have to wait.
I don't look around looking for inspiration. I just stand. Wait.
There was something I wanted to make. It'll come to me.
Grilled cheese. That was it.
I walk to the fridge and pull it open. I don't remember why I'm here, but I wait. I know this is a thing I do. It'll come to me.
Milk.
I grab the milk from the door and move to close it.
No.
I open it back up, slide the carton back in the door and take out the butter and the cheese. Another pause and the ham follows. I got what I came here for. I close the door.
I lay some bread down on my plate. Pull the ham from the package and put them on the slice. It doesn't cover the whole slice of bread, but there's two slices of ham stuck to each other, so it's fine. I spend some time peeling them off of each other and putting them down just right. Cheese is next. I grab the block of cheese and search for a slicer. There are two options; A used one, from yesterday. It's the good one, but it's still dirty and it might ruin the cheese. Not to mention it's a bit gross. So I go for the other one. I slice and I slice. I'm on a roll now. Every slice turns into a little wafer of cheese. I can't manage a single slice. But eventually, the bread is covered and I call it a win. The block of cheese now sports cracks and gaps, but there's nothing I can do about that.
I wonder what's next. Grilling, yes. I slap the other slice on and smear butter on the backside. It's a bit difficult now. I've run out of steam.
Pan.
Stove.
Gas.
Sandwich goes in the pan and I wait.
Flip it.
It slides open. I try to correct but the bottom slice is so soft it just mushes together and bounces back. It's fine.
I can't get the temperature right. The bottom slice isn't toasting but it's also starting to burn. Close enough.

User Photo

By Leonie Jonk 💘

Artist & Spoonie I write about my life as an artist and as a person with chronic pain, the struggles, the rewards, the inspiration & the downfalls. Oh and occasionally the odd piece of fiction :)

Get Leonie Jonk's newsletter

Almost there! Check your inbox and click the link to confirm.

Subscribe to Leonie Jonk's latest writing to get it right in your inbox.