Gazpacho and Wimbledon

Last night I walked to the giant cross with the chard/mom's friend from the night before then invited her over for left over lasagna and redux salad turned into a quite tasty gazpacho. I ate some of the gazpacho for lunch today whilst watching the Roddick/Velaz-a-something game. Unfortunately I never find watching tennis as interesting if I already know who won. Which I did thanks to the commentators and the fact that the game actually took place on Friday. I remember a few years back during a bout of either unhappiness or insomnia (probably both) in which I happily (not the right word, really...resignedly?) stayed up until six in the morning and then watched the games live. Though not currently at my happiest, I find that I can still go to sleep at a reasonable hour and that I'm eating just as much as always. Why is that? Some people when upset, without car, partner or job would stop eating. Not me. Not that I'm overeating or self-foodicating, I'm not. My cousin related a story of spending an entire unhappy year eating only granola and raisins. I thought to myself: what about cheese, fish and the occasional Triscuit? Ah me.