7:17 pm

My husband has gone to pick up sushi for dinner on my request.

We both looked at each other at the same time and laughed about how that was my “final meal”.

In reality, I’m not sure it would be.  If I knew for sure I was going to die, like the death row inmates, I’d have some pretty crazy requests.

First, they’d have to get me a slice of Lou Malnati’s pizza, with mushrooms.  Then I’d want a giant bowl of cream of chicken rice soup from Beef & Brandy, a restaurant in my home town where I have a lot of family memories.  A leg of fried chicken from Brown’s Chicken in Chicago, and a side of crispy garlic chicken wings from Wokcano here in California.  The Genki Roll from Niko Niko, my favorite sushi place.  An antipasto salad from Micelli’s Italian Restaurant.  A pint of Ben & Jerry’s Half Baked and a warm chocolate chip cookie, just out of the oven (preferably my mom’s).  POSSIBLY a side of McDonald’s french fries. 

I mean, if you were going to die, wouldn’t you want comfort food?  I love steamed broccoli and salmon, grilled veggies, chicken, etc.  But if it was my last day on Earth, I’d request all my favorites, because if you’re going to die anyway, who cares about the calories?

Since I know I’m not actually going to kick the bucket tomorrow, and because of my latest diagnosis, I’m just going to stick with the sushi.  And maybe, maybe if my husband took my hint, a pint of Ben and Jerry’s will just happen to show up too.

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