Clearly I am not sufficiently recovered from whatever the fuck yesterday was (or the day before that), as within moments of ordering my cheap bar breakfast—well, no, ahead of that, really, I was descending into an anxiety attack, but I guess I was trying to power through it because I wanted to get out of the house. I only ate half my food, leaving almost all of the scrambled eggs because anxiety increases or agitates my sensory sensitivities and while I love eggs they often are the first things to go in this state of mind; the…mouthfeel(?) becomes vomitous. I was in and out of the bar in less than an hour. I wasn’t even there long enough for a second cup of coffee.