I don’t have obvious addictions. I love the taste of a beautiful wine and some wines that aren’t beautiful at all, but cut through the fat so that you can taste whatever comes next. But I don’t drink, really. I don’t ever think about wine in terms of its intoxicating features. Drugs are lost on me. I have no desire to lose touch or take the edge off, touch.
I am addicted to a piece of chocolate off a bar that I keep in the refrigerator no matter where I am. I will have two carts of pounds of meat, fruit, flours, flapping fish, cheese and tomatoes and one single cheap chocolate on the top and the checkout person will always hold it up or think of something clever to say about it and I say nothing. I smile, pack up the goods, and hold my chocolate.
I am addicted to words. They work their way in to my central nervous system. They make my brain sway.
I am addicted to finding food that is crazy good. I wake up thinking about it. Fireworks go off in me, thinking about it.
And a crush. A crush can take me down. It is the magic show where the girl is standing there holding one hand on her hat and one, I don’t know, wrapped around a baton or something and then the floor falls out from under her and she is gone.