Smoked Meat, Bed Assembly Failure

[stormdog]

In other news, yesterday I heated up the chicken sausages we'd bought in our last grocery collection yesterday for lunch for Miriam and I. As I took them out of the microwave, I smelled something that was really disturbing me. I actually can't remember after that whether I asked Miriam to come and smell them or get them out of the microwave, or what. But they were out of the microwave on the counter and I put mine in buns and put cheese and mustard on them and took a bite of one and I was scared and distressed and told Miriam that I could not eat them. I think it was then that I realized that they smelled like the condo after the fire.

Looking at the packaging, I realized they were made with smoked chicken, and I was smelling and tasting the smoke. In the past, I would have said that I didn't really know what a smoked taste was. I would eat smoked meat and question whether being smoked had any effect on my experience of eating them. I wasn't sure if my sense of taste was even good enough to notice any smoke flavor. Well, it is.

And that triggered my first crying panic attack about the condo in some time now. They're definitely getting further apart, so that's good.

I also tried to put the used king bed that I bought a few days ago together in the living room to take measurements yesterday and realized that I'm just not going to be able to do that in this space. I had a lot of fear and anxiety and shame that the bed would turn out not to fit a standard king mattress and slat base and it would become horribly complicated to make it work and we'd have wasted all our time and money on it and it would all be my fault.

So yesterday was already turning out to be difficult for me, even before the news about my grandmother.

Comments

[armiphlage]

*hugs*

[stormdog]

Thank you. *hugs back*