Whatever May Happen…
Whatever may happen, I have banana bread today, and likely will have chocolate chip cookies tomorrow. *chuckles*
I swear — my life doesn’t revolve around eating or food, but it is pleasing when the concept of eating for more than sustenance takes up roost for however short a period it does. And it usually is short; I’m not ‘fat’ because I pig out, I’m ‘fat’ because I had a kid and I refuse to go for anorexia or surgery to shift the fat off of my stomach (which is not a natural place for me to gain or lose weight). Most of my relationship with food is strained due to spending long periods of my life too nauseous to eat. If not for my husband cooking, I would probably eat very infrequently at best. A body needs fuel to do its best, and is one of those areas like sleep that I cannot afford to neglect if I want a swinging chance of fighting depression. And even now, even with the nausea massively pushed back, I’m still horrible at remembering to eat something. So knowing there’s something nice that I made that I want to eat? Heck yeah I’m going to celebrate it, and because it’s me, I’ll probably only have a little bit.
Really though, it breaks my heart how terrible a relationship people in general have with food. From one fad diet to the next, I’ve had people in my life heap abuse on me for not joining them in their loathing. How dare I tempt them off their diet with brownies, how dare I not hate myself — what a laugh! One almost has to laugh to not cry at how this sort of crap wreaks havoc on the generally frazzles psyche of modern western life. Good worker bee must work 60+ hours a week while carting junior to 50 different play dates and activities while working out two hours a day and eating the latest pile of no-carb-no-sugar-no-gluten-no-taste chemicals to cram into a label that claims them an unrealistic trouser size (that nobody can see ’cause it’s not like it’s painted on their asses). I’ll thank deity every day for making me pre-broken so that I wouldn’t be tempted onto that insane hamster wheel, ha ha. I’m already too busy playing ‘Stop hitting yourself!’ to want to add to it.
I guess my point is this – why would you want to play ‘Stop hitting yourself!’ if you don’t have to? Simplify, maaaaan; cut the crap and get back to basic goodness. Bake something good and full fat (because low-fat is a farce) and savor it without guilt or remorse. Or make a pillow fort, or run across a field without a stupid pedometer, or play on the swings. Whatever may happen, what kind of life is it without simple joy? The adverts can lie until they’re blue in the face promising happiness, but smart cookies know that money can only go so far. The simple pleasures persist because they are universal, and worthy of revisiting time and time again.
With that in mind… I think I might go get a bit of banana bread, and let it melt happily on my tongue.
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