Yo ho it's hot

There is, I'm learning, no elegant way to attack a whole chicken with a fork. I wanted to buy fried chicken but apparently there was a fried chicken famine under way at Rainbow, so I had to settle for the "classic rotisserie" option. This means I will have a partly forked chicken in the fridge for the next few days it'll take me to finish it off, which is pretty standard for me but is a habit I'll have to shelve when I move back home. Same for drinking milk straight out of the jug and doing laundry by standing in the shower with a full set of clothes on.

Ok, I'm not going to miss the laundry bit. But I will miss swearing at my cat and eating cake for breakfast because nobody's nearby to stop me. It's going to take me a while to reintegrate when I get back to Rochester. Much like when Tarzan decided to try on polite society for size, I will need to readapt to a set of arbitrary cultural norms. The Noble Savage must adjust to the restricting demands of civilization once again.

Well, all right, maybe not so noble. And only savage insofar as I hope nobody wants to use the stick of butter in the fridge because I licked it last week.

Well it was butter.