Mmmm...meals of morbidity

Not that I ever plan to face this situation to begin with, but I don't have any idea what my death row meal would be. I love food so much! I think between my inability to make choices and the impending doom, my decision-making skills would shut down. I wouldn't know if it was time to have comfort food, whatever I was craving, or to gorge myself on something I'd never indulge in otherwise. Even thinking about limitless possibilities of food is making me salivate (or that could be the aroma of my creole black beans and rice wafting in from the kitchen). I LOVE FOOD. And eating! Oh my goodness, it's probably unhealthy how much I think about food, and eating it, and cooking it, and making it pretty, and sharing it, and and and...yes. That.

In my mind, I see the incredulous, then bored, then raging facial expression of whatever poor soul was forced to accommodate my gastronomic requests and had to listen to me talk through every possible option, indecisively hopping from one morsel to the next with growling belly and insatiable appetite.

Fortunately, I do not foresee death row in my life plan...