Every Waking Moment

I'm getting to understand the habit of this vegan thing.  I turned on the TV last night and a background circuit in my brain activated to ask, "Wait, is that vegan?"  Yes, Robyn, there is no way watching TV could not be vegan. And then I did it again as I climbed into bed. Yes, Robyn, sleeping is vegan. Except that as my head hit the pillow, I realized that you could have a feather pillow, a wool blanket or a horsehair mattress. Okay, maybe not a horsehair mattress, assuming your bed is under a hundred years old, but you know what I mean.

Is killing bedbugs unvegan?  What would you be supposed to do if you got them?  Live in peace and harmony with them?  Do vegans slap mosquitoes?  Are there vegan arachniphobes? Is veganism a constant pattern of having to compromise and then discovering that you screwed up, followed by guilt and pennance? I'm sure you get into patterns so you don't have to think about it every waking moment, and one can't really say there's something wrong with constantly thinking about how you live your life, but it's not just mealtimes: it's a full time commitment.

For breakfast I had a different kind of bread: lightly toasted Texas Toast 60% Whole Wheat, and I had peanut butter on it.