If you're wondering whether I just ate a piece of cold fried chicken, the answer is yes. It's sunny (sort of) and warm, and darn it, it's cold fried chicken weather.
If you're further wondering whether I'm doing my taxes tonight, the answer is also yes.
In addition, if you're wondering whether I had an argument with Freud in my head that his theory is bunk, and that the impulse of life is not sex but death, and no, they're not related, they are nearly opposites, in that sex is striving for ascension without death, despite what the French say, but that development involves a growing consciousness of self, of life away from and then back toward death, and thus our growing understanding of death shapes our behavior more irrevocably than something that we *could* avoid, such as sex, and that, really, it is ethically inappropriate to devise a theory from which you are mysteriously immune or "enlightened" and that the social pariah that is womanhood gets the short end of the stick, then that answer, surprise surprise, is also yes. In the shower.