Note from Jessica.

This bag has been in the refrigerator for three days and I'm just now seeing the note. I almost dismissed it.

And then I realized it means the world to me.

This is the second half of a salad that sat in the refrigerator longer than the first half that came after eating the very large sandwich. They are excellent salads.

They're not just mindless millennials as you might imagine. 

It's easy enough to just call in an order and hop across the street and pick it up as I do but I've had the most dreadful case of the flu. It's hanging on so long for several weeks now in my lungs that I think it might be pneumonia. It feels like pneumonia but not quite so bad as that. 

Plus I must walk down to the crosswalk then back the same distance on the other side of Broadway, named for its broadness, then repeat that in reverse and by the time I get home my sandwich is cold. 

Those studs can simply skip across the street in five long strides and boom, they're here. 

Like this: La la la. 

I give them $10.00 for that, and I meet them downstairs at the door, so they're always eager to do it. And it's worth $50.00 to me because I get a hot sandwich plus other stuff and neighborly goodwill goes a very long way as I see.

Yesterday I bought the kids at Floyd's another pizza but this time I added a salad for whoever might be vegetarian. Denver Pizza also makes excellent salads. Most of them have meat. All of them have cheese. But you can get them without it. Vegetarians are a bit tricky to please sometimes. Maybe they don't eat feta. That stuff comes out of a goat's utter, you know. 

That's really gross when you think about it. 

Imagine drinking milk straight from a cow's utter. Ew, gross me out. Yet somehow I can push that out of my mind.