Another day, another bolus. Why doesn't food taste good to me anymore? Filling my stomach's long since become just another daily chore, like waking up. Listen to me; I am so ripe for a Michael Douglas Falling Down moment. I wonder how many more like me there are on the freeway everyday. Everybody hurts? Or maybe I'll just trip on the carpet one night, break my neck and die alone, quietly and unremarkably, on the bathroom floor.