Ferment.
Scotch ale and truffled cheese, grilled crust of bread. 8.5% and some kind of baguette, with char, and truly rotten cheese. Re-thinking rotten things said to me, tonight. Someone new appeared in some facet of my life, it doesn't really matter which. It happens to have been at work, but that's this job, this week, this year. It'll be someone else soon enough. It may as well have been someone else. And this person with whom I've been acquainted, through work, less than a month, was going on about fucking some rando, and expecting me to join in the conversation. But when I said I can't get into that cuz Joe ruined me for anyone else, and I can't do that, she said, in effect, that I'll be "back on the horse" soon, i.e. back to meaningless fucking, and not to bond too deeply with my own trauma. I think she called it 'Future faking.' Whatever. Bitch better have my money! So I told her, with too much kindness and respect, and in light of t...