What do you do when you can’t decide between ramen and sushi, but the ramen and sushi places are within a few blocks of one another, and both are within easy walking distance of your house?

You eat both.

Duh.

First you go to the ramen place because it closes earlier, and because their garlic toro-paitan ramen is noodles in broth with a shitload of fried garlic and a dollop of chicken fat whipped in there to make it creamy, and because eating that might fill you up, you can take stock of the situation before you decide to commit to sushi.

Next you go to the sushi place, because you’re kind of full but not totally, and also the older gentleman sushi chef likes you enough to remember your usual and always passes a little something extra your way because he knows you’ll eat it and they never charge you for it. So you tip crazy well, always, and this might be why they like you so much but the sushi is so good it wouldn’t even matter if they were faking it.

Then, on the way home, you consider getting a hot chocolate but decide against it because you’re not some goddamn animal.

So now I’m home, finally totally full, which is too full to go return the DVDs I was supposed to take back to the video store today. This means I’ve incurred a late fee on them, although hopefully I can finish up the last couple of episodes of season 2 of Girls tomorrow. Maybe if Graham falls asleep or something. He’s supposed to be going to the bathhouse tomorrow – a real one, though, “not one of those sex clubs ones,” he said – so he’ll probably be pretty tired when he gets home.

And then I can write something that isn’t about what an irresponsible glutton I am.

Maybe.