In all of the stress and drama that is going on right now, my brain is trying to escape into a safe haven of utter triviality. With my father in dire* straits, the sudden need for me to take on a host of time-consuming and bureaucracy-intersecting duties, my future suddenly looking a lot less carefree than it did one month ago, I have chosen to become annoyed about…my diet.
Let’s just say that I am not one of those people whose appetite suffers when I am feeling stressed. With the exception of a particularly vibrant case of the flu at around age 11, no illness, life situation or emotional upheaval has ever prevented me from getting my three (or four, or five) squares a day. In fact, if anything, my stomach’s demands for regular meals only strengthen during times of crisis. I’m sure that you would all like to picture me hovering concernedly over the dear father’s bed, asking if there’s anything I can get him, soothing his worries and the like, but alas, the picture is only complete if you add a thought bubble which reads “You know, that hummus in the hospital cafeteria lacked seasoning. This time I think I’ll try the grilled cheese on rye. With tomatoes. And I wonder what they have for dessert today…”
The pants that I am wearing today are a grim testament to this trend – I swear they fit in January. I am fairly certain that two of my limbs could spontaneously detach while I was sitting in a burning building breaking up with Josh during an earthquake the day after my cat died, and the foremost priority in my mind would be what I might make for dinner, and how soon I could justifiably get that going. This infernal self-preservation thing is becoming annoying.
*Not deathbed-dire, but “Hmm. You’re probably going to live a long time, but what we’re less sure of is how fun that life is going to be for you” kind of dire.
Posted by hilatron at February 26, 2004 12:04 PM | TrackBackI don't think I need to explain my own mind-numbing obsession with food. I think about my next meal the way guys think about sex. Which is appauling.
Posted by: EV at February 26, 2004 12:55 PMEV, have you ever read any Calvin Trillin? He's funny and hunger-inducing.
Hilatron, you should come to the hospital cafeteria at the hospital where my great-aunts sometimes are. They have unbelievable food. Seriously.
I'm stressed out and I want food. End of story. Thats just the way it is for me right now. I'm not talking salads here either. I want carby goodness. Comfort food. Doesnt go with the low carb diet I keep starting and stopping because I feel like I'm too stressed out to concentrate on it.
Posted by: Lizzie at February 28, 2004 08:55 AMeating when stressed is awesome! just ask any of us who don't. i've got/had issues with my stomach lining being eaten away by acids, ulcers, intestinal spasms, too-rapid digestion... the list goes on. if all you get from your stressed-out times is a new size to slide into, consider yourself fairly lucky, and keep eating.
i like watching my size fluctuate, personally. i can look back on a pair of pants from another size and think, "god, that winter was horrible," or "what was so great about that spring that i could wear this?" my family can tell how emotionally well i am by how deep the circles under my eyes are, how tightly my jeans fit me. funny, to hear "you've put on some weight" from my mother and take it as a compliment.
Posted by: k at March 26, 2004 03:28 PM