A tiny thought

I just had a conversation with a friend about our favorite meals. She likes breakfast and lunch, in that order. Despite my love for steak and other heavy things, I have to agree. Good lunch food feels like a nice garden or other healthy delights. Not very manly, but you know whatever. Dinner is our big meal here, and it gets overdone. Whereas we don’t eat a great breakfast or lunch nearly as often, so when we do, they feel cozy and remarkable. Or maybe it’s because I’ve been to Spain. In Spain, they have a big big lunch, because they don’t work very hard and their economy is not fledgling and brutish. They take a big nap, go back to work maybe, and then sit down for a light, long, and conversation-heavy dinner. If Spain itself, the big weird shape, were a person, it might say “Yeah, I’m Spain. I already did the Superpower thing a while back, it was alright. I’m gonna go take a nap. So uh, piss off.”

I like that about you Spain. You go Spain.

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