I’ve started to keep a Food and Feelings Journal,
but it just ends up sounding like the lamest brand of forced narrative.
Like Chicken Soup for the Mystically Reanimated Soul,
or that recurring dream I have where I’m the host of
a low-budget, zombie-themed daytime talk show,
wearing a coral pantsuit and discussing all the relevant issues
for someone with an undead affliction.
“Have you been resurrected by extraordinary means?
Are you trying to eat away your unhappiness?
Plus, 3 brain recipes you won’t believe are low fat!”
Just before I wake up, someone from the audience
asks me about coming to terms with being evil.
I never considered I might be evil.
It’s been hard enough coming to terms with being dead.
But if I were evil, then I imagine
I’d be merrily killing and looting and defiling farmers’ wives or something,
instead of documenting my every murderous whim
in a goddamned Food and Feelings Journal.

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Anna Della Zazzera spends her free time writing about ghouly ghastly things and drawing tastefully half-naked ladies. She lives in Ottawa, Canada, where she works as a makeup artist. Follow her here: @litwitharuby.