No, Fickle Finger of Fate, that does not mean I want the Noro-virus nor a broken bone. I'm just tired. I'm tired from worrying if I might have to move, I'm tired of personal crap going on with the family, I'm tired of dumb stuff happening at work, I'm tired of my car being on the brink of destruction, I'm tired of not having time to cook or eat decent meals, and I'm tired of being damn tired in general.I am also thinking that I need to branch out a little more on my take-out options. I keep rotating through the same few, and it gets annoying after a while -- and embarrassing when the employees think I'm part of the staff because I'm there so often.
Well, the big fucking deal is that it was some of the best pizza I have ever eaten. It was thin crust and smothered in cheese, with some kind of mild queso-like sauce thinly spread on. This was all there to hold the main ingredients onto the pie: pineapple, scallions, and I cannot even remember what else because once I took a bite of the pizza, I was spellbound. (Get it? Salem? SPELLbound?)
Flying Saucer Pizza (the restaurant) is also a haven for Trekkies, Wookies, and all kinds of scifi addicts and aficionados. Salem is a haven for people who think they're witches. I'm just damn glad to have a place to sit down and relax for a short while while the rest of the world outside of good pizza and strange wall decor moves along without me for a few.
Yes, I have convinced myself that the simple earthly act of rotation is making me tired, too, but at least it's not the same-old-same-old few take-outs I haunt when I'm back home.
