I spent ten minutes in the third-floor ladies' room today, crouched in a stall with the door locked, eating plain saltines. The fast is important to my family, obviously, and I told my mom I'd be strict about it even with the commute and working, but I just… I couldn't make it through the afternoon without something. The crackers were probably stale but I just needed the crunch, the salt. It felt like a necessary function, almost, despite the guilt. No one saw, of course.