Mon Mon Mon

Waking up on a Monday morning, only to suddenly realise with blinding insight that 'Mon' and 'Nom' are enantiomorphic. Such instances are what life is made of.

I eat my processed food, my bread and rolled oats, and wonder why people insist that processed food is bad and yet tell me to cook my food.

I drink my boiled water and think of how far we have come, we environmental barbarians, using up fossil fuel just to boil chlorinated water. That, I suppose, ensures that anaerobic bacteria will be able to thrive in the resultant deoxygenated, dechlorinated liquid. If they could find any nutrients in it.

Then I realise that this is what I am. I have become an anaerobe. I live in an environment that has been boiled. I can get by without the oxygen of life. And there isn't even any chlorine left.

Nom nom nom. The quest for food beckons.