Today, my brother bought a crapload of food from Boca Chica, the local taco house. Anyone from the neighborhood knows that this is the greatest place of all time for tacos and other quick-hit Mexican foods.
It was so delicious. Being poor, it sure beats the diet of instant ramen and/or eggs and potatoes.
But goddamn, do I feel guilty. At least, that’s what this pressure in my gut probably symbolizes. Now I have to eat like a rabbit for the rest of the day. And probably tomorrow, too.