Eager to be seated before the restaurant is overtaken by the lunch crowd, we grab a table and settle in. Our waitress arrives with menus that we disregard and reach for the sushi list instead, marking sushi and rolls, making our order a colorful meal. When our miso arrives, our rolls slowly follow and disappear as we lunging at favorites with chopsticks in hand. Our stomachs slowly expand and conversation continues to waiver in and out. I split my hearing to listen to words of my friends and the low hum of the crowd as I sip hot tea.
In a blink of an eye, our meal became empty plates on an overly crowded table. My eyes begin to grow heavy the longer we sat, which made it more difficult to leave. Anticipating a second wind, I rise and feel the food fill the rest of me. My legs began to move and energy pushed my body along and out the door.
Arriving at home, I walk into my room debating a nap, instead, I grab my laptop and focus on writing. If I lay down at all, surely my eyes will drift into blackness. Gluttony makes me tired.