Pizza in the time of martial law

Who would’ve thought pizza and martial law could co-exist? Weirdly, in this ML, it does. It was one of those insanely hot days (I joked that the unforgiving hot weather is the reason I feel homesick). On such days, I don’t have the energy to cook. It’s too much physical work (that’s what heat does). With a book inside my bag, I went out instead to this place located further off on the highway. I ordered Pacific Love (meat and spam) pizza after the staff gave me a rundown of what’s in their Hawaiian-named pizzas. It was a late lunch, 1:30PM. There’s air-conditioning inside but I stayed outdoors where there was a strong cool breeze. I chose a corner and did my thing: people watch. There weren’t many people to see though as the place is a little out of the way still I could see the highway. Regardless, the ritual – restaging of something familiar – helps me adjust, to feel safe, to feel at home in my new community. I ate four slices and had the rest packed (for dinner!). I ordered my second mug of Americano and stayed until 3:30PM. I had a few things to do on my errand list before it got dark (by 6PM these days).

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