I was fine. Despite turning 50 recently, life was good. I had a decent job, a wonderful partner and the most lovely kids. There was stuff - you don't get past GO without stuff, but I was born white and male in the affluent west so the odds were always in my favour.
And then this post happened.
It's not even as though I can remember wanting, let alone having a mixed grill. Sure I had an Irish immigrant upbringing and meat was always important. But one animal at a time (maybe two at christmas).
But now I can't visit or even walk past a pub without checking the menu and every time I see a mixed grill without lamb (100% so far) a little bit of me dies.
I've left my job and ditched my family. I'm sleeping rough and have no focus anymore. I feel as though the point is gone.
Curse you, capitalism.