Contrary to what my lack of posts suggests, I am still alive. I made it to ten days, and even then still had food left over. That was the oddly annoying part -- I could have gone another day. But why bother? Ten days is a long time to exist on potatoes, onions, and cabbages. I'd proven to myself I could do it, and I'd had ENOUGH.
This is what I had left:
Some pasta, a packet of instant noodles, an onion, 5 potatoes, and some parsley.
I didn't really miss anything in particular; just flavour in general. The whole thing was like watching a very long movie that started out in black and white with a scratchy audio track, and gradually degenerated into a silent, washed-out picture of some damp rocks. The first day of freedom came, and I took the can of Dr. Pepper I'd left in the fridge the previous night to cool, and walked out onto the deck and into the sun. I opened the can, slowly. I stared at it for a while, then took a sip, and sat there taking in the warmth, admiring the city and everything I had, and considered how lucky I was.
The next challenge.
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