Plantar fasciitis is an affliction from the pit of hell.

Sam is on the way to buy himself a couple of doughnuts, leaving me behind at Howdygram headquarters to recover from yet another low blood sugar incident and wax poetic about last night’s unforgettable dinner. I had a craving that ultimately manifested itself as a pile of homemade CarbQuik biscuits, raw onion and the cheapest dill pickle chips money can buy. It was a feast from heaven that clearly didn’t deliver enough carbs to balance the insulin I injected at dinnertime, because I woke up this morning with a reading of 52, which is at least 30 points too low.

The memory of biscuits and pickles will linger forever, though. I think I’ve discovered a new favorite meal!

On our agenda today is a nice drive in the country with lunch at the China House Buffet in Sulphur Springs. I’m having a major neuropathy flare-up in my left heel — plantar fasciitis is an affliction from the pit of hell — so there are very few options for frivolity right now. Sitting on my ass in the car for an hour followed by unlimited Chinese food seems to be the recommended therapy. I, for one, can’t wait.

It wasn’t my plan to write an entire post about eating things so I’ll end with a portrait of Benedict XVI, a retiree with hilarious hats who just announced he’s too pooped to Pope.

I’m thinking his replacement should be somebody a lot younger with more energy and crowd appeal. Maybe Johnny Depp or PeeWee Herman.

Thank you for reading this.