I'm running through the South End, not really knowing where I am or where I'm going. South of Tremont, my mental map breaks down. I think about turning around, but then I weave together gourmet food shops and restaurants to take me home... South End Formaggio on Shawmut to The Butcher Shop at the corner of Waltham and Tremont to where Icarus used to be located on Appleton. I know where I am when I see food that I know.
I'm walking home and hauling heavy grocery bags, including a gallon of milk, pounds of butternut squash, and a whole chicken. I always underestimate how much my groceries will weigh. But I don't mind (too much). I have a plan for the chicken.
I'm going to East Boston, night after night, because E swears she's found the best Indian (she was right) and then she swears she's found the best Italian (she actually scrunches up her fingers and kisses them to express her total love of Rino's). So I keep on going.
Because, really, it's all about the food.