I still can't write 1K words a day without hurting myself in the long term. Beloved insists that it's because I don't get enough fat in my diet and they might be right.
The only animal fat that I find (a) delicious and (b) easily-digestible is none other than pork fat. Which, as you might guess, is hellishly expensive. Other than that, I get my fats from Mascarpone, butter, and a hellfuck load of cheese.
Beloved criticises my daily fare as "lean". I know about some vegans who would say otherwise. I know MeMum's doctor would have fits about my diet.
So I pretty much have to let Beloved buy some food. Because dead pig is expensive and I'd never buy it for myself. I prefer food staples that last for more than one meal.
Ethical issues with porcine intelligence aside, I need to have me some pig meat (and fat) on the regular. It's a health thing. On the other side of the ethical table is the fact that pigs are firkin deadly, and I am not fit enough to cull me some ferals.
Further to my improved health efforts, I am switching to finishing off Rael, and not touching Clockwork Souls until I'm done. Starting today. And doing the 100-rest technique until my wrists improve.
Trying to figure out the best way to get some decent amounts of fat into my body before I wreck it is a continuing problem. I may have to have everything with lashings of real cream. Or cheese. Or cream cheese.
Ask me if I care. Go on. I'll wait.