Tonight, just now, not TWO HOURS ago, I got my sense of taste back! Celebrate! You see, ever since Friday night I haven't had any sense of taste. Granted, Friday night's loss of flavor was because I drank a lot. And you sort of don't taste the vodka and Coke after a glass or two. But Saturday morning was the beginning of the Worst Cold Ever. WCE, for short. You say it like "Wicky!" All Saturday I kept a death grip on Matt's toilet paper Kleenex box. (He ran out of toilet paper Friday afternoon, so any time anyone wanted to use the bathroom, they had to wipe with the World's Softest Kleenex. It wasn't bad at all, trust me.) I accidentally left that box of Kleenex at RJ's house, dumb me, but it was okay because my parent's replaced it with a conveniently smaller box that fits in the space between my dorm bed frame and the wall.
... But back to the tastebuds! I knew something was up when the Burger Hut burger and banana milkshake I had for lunch on Saturday tasted sort of... bland. Naturally I didn't tell Elaina or Matt any of this, or they might have never given the place a chance. Trust me, Burger Hut has never had so much blind faith in their product in a single day than when I took a sip of that banana milkshake and cried "Oh god, it's better than I remember! Elaina, try this!" So the real story goes, I have had chocolate chip pancakes, endless glasses of orange juice, peanut butter bagels, and toasted sandwiches, all without tasting a single bite. Some of the best food ever created and cherished by a college student, and all I could do was imagine how it would taste on a non-stuffy-nosed day. But when I got back from sailing practice this evening (at 7:30! Three and a half hours, three days a week, devoted and spent in blood for these people and their boats... and that's not counting the regatta weekends. But you know what? The hours are better than when I was on crew team.) ... ahem, when I got back from practice tonight, something changed. Not only did I feel hungry (I've mostly been eating when I think I've gone long enough between meals.) but I could imagine exactly what I wanted. I had to wait about 30 minutes for Natalie to finish washing all her dirty dishes (she and friends had a baked potatoe feast), but then I got cooking. Spaghetti, darlings, trust me. It's all about the pasta and the sauce and oh the cheese! I have never had a simpler, more cherished meal in my life. And oh, the flavors! When I tasted that cold spaghetti sauce, I suddenly remembered why Natalie and I keep a constant and essential jar of the stuff in our fridge.
I also started a new grocery list.