Turnip for What?

The mighty lady, scouring the fields for food

What is it about hunger that ravages the mind. So distracted do the hungry become that all the minor irritations of the world flock to them. When starved, a person becomes depraved, dangerous. Until, of course, the lack of nutrients render them malnourished and sick. A feeling of weakness overcomes the body as it realizes it's running on fumes. Lightheadedness and a conservation of energy become mainstays. There is something somewhat floaty about hunger, though. A lightness. It sometimes feels oddly intoxicating. Much like sleep depravation, there is a sweet spot.  Too much of either one and things become too hallucinatory.

Where am I on that scale right now? The acute shaky phase, perhaps. My lady is at the grocery store, scavenging for dinner. I've risen to my new rank of housewife. The lack of responsibility is thrilling! She's expecting me to put a baby in her, so I can become a stay-at-home dad. What she doesn't know is I've been microwaving my balls while she's at work; the baby batter is inert. I've got a good thing going here. Why allow a baby to ruin it? I get unlimited food and leisure and time to myself. And sex, don't forget the sex. Where the hell is she anyway? What if she never returns? Killed out in the wild by a declined credit card? Isn't modernity sweet? Imagine how it must have been thousands of years ago, waiting in the dark uncertainty, one among many in a starving village, hoping for someone - anyone - to return with the bounty of a successful hunt.

Now, all we have to do is grab the last turnip faster than old Beatrice and throw in the microwave, after my balls.