Costco itself

Is fucking big, and it had been awhile. It felt new, the experience, like going through it for the first time. It’s like you're entering the land of giants, from the vastness of the warehouse space, the ceilings high enough to accommodate a twenty foot person, maybe even thirty, the extraordinary bulk of the goods on those twenty foot high racks. Hell, you might as well call it what it is, you're Jack in Jack in the Beanstalk, sneaking into the fee-fi-fo-fum giant’s castle, getting to make away with the goose that lays the golden eggs. Of course the giant’s got cash registers baring the entrance and a membership fee so you’re paying for those eggs a plenty. But that giddy feeling, that's the way it was for me in surplus (note my wife handles all paying responsibilities and the membership fee so technically I can bring my little little feeling home, I guess). After being crammed into a hospital and limited to half a floor, stuck most of the time for three weeks inside a little tent inside a four man room, I desperately needed this. Makes me want to take that dusty ol cliche out of my trunk and say the experience “lifted my soul” to see the world returned to its size. I also had pizza.

Too much pizza, no surprise there. Sad thing though—patience, patience—that too much equals two slices, not even the true ginormous slices (wanted to use that word, and the spell check didn’t flag it, seriously? Already?). I do understand this is good, I had no idea how much I’d be able to wrestle into my stomach, if I could even manage a slice. I belched frequently enough I thought I could go for the full two. Should’ve stopped at one and a half. The last half of the slice, usually devoid of cheese, ain’t even my favorite part. Why did I have to shove it all down? Partly because I wanted to make my wife semi-happy: look not leaving anything of the slice I chose to eat, so that's good, right? But I can’t really blame it on her, I just didn’t want to stop. Oh well, I don’t think it’ll hurt my appetite long run, and that’s the important thing. It’s funny—sad? Disturbing? Normal?—but without my Paramount bed (angel choir) I can’t lean back to accurately assess what the Gurgle Community is trying to tell me. Ergo going with the belches I guess. Anyway, Gurgles, if you don’t speak up, you can’t blame me for not listening. Please don’t blame, then punish me.

Yeah, they rule my world.

But thanks to my wife, I don’t always have to live inside my stomach. This is what I looked forward to more than pasta or pizza, riding in the car with my wife as we go anywhere. Saturday and Sunday it was within Mihara, going to our big department stores, Aeon and Fuji Grand. When we go farther it will be mostly along Route 2, many times skirting the inland sea on our way to Onomichi and beyond, which usually equals Onomichi and the hospital, so that part, the arrival part is not something I’m a waiting for. Friday. Today we went the other way, no inland sea and a lot of highway, but far away from the hospital, freedom freedom freedom. And it’s just been a long time. On the way there I slept from Saijo to the exit, a good twenty minutes, and we were mainly silent when I was awake. It was cool. For me at least. I don’t know if my wife was cool about me sleeping while she was busy driving, I hope she was. In this case, I think so, she wants me to get my sleep. Although when I was awake she kept on looking over at me, “to make sure I was still alive,” she said. On the way back, we talked about my Dark Backwards story, or I asked her if it was okay I jabber on about it, and she came up with a great idea to fix this story problem I was having. The things she comes up with, sometimes right on the spot… well, I’m her husband so I’m obviously biased, but I call them genius. Examples? Come on, that’s for the Dark Backwards, you got to read it yourself.