God might be driving a FedEx truck.

A couple of hours ago I’m really hungry and standing in the pantry hunting around for something to eat when the doorbell rings. It’s 8:30 p.m. and pitch black outside. Sam asks if I’m expecting anybody. I reply, “You’re kidding, right? We don’t have any friends.” He opens the door and it’s FedEx, magically delivering a stunning gift basket — from one of my clients in Virginia — stuffed with A BIG PILE OF AMAZING, READY-TO-EAT CRUNCHY THINGS. The timing was eerie, providential and absolutely perfect.

I found this photo on the shipper’s website. Posing here are a bag of kick-ass pretzels and peanuts spicy enough to make your nose run, queso dip, salsa, hot sauce, tortilla chips, guacamole seasoning and chili mix. The basket itself is awfully nice, too, although I’m not sure what I’ll do with it yet. Right now my main concern is consuming as many snacks as possible — as quickly as possible — before I starve to death. (I haven’t eaten anything since we had lunch at the casino.)

I need to eat something. Thank you for reading this.