January 9th, 2004

ledbetter tat

Food

Food is tricky, isn’t it? What to eat? When to eat it? How much? The questions are endless; the variables labyrinthian. Every day I meet the challenge and try my best to navigate it all yet still I find me flailing for answers. That’s why I like to eat the very same foods all the time. If I could, I would approach my clothes in the same manner. I’ve always admired Andy Warhol and Alfred Hitchcock’s adherence to a uniform but I just can’t get away with it. Not in my business.

I go through phases where I will only eat a certain food at a certain time of the day, without fail. Last year, when I was trying desperately to eat something/anything, to stuff my mouth although the very thought made me gag, I settled on Big Macs. Every day. It worked for a long time and each lunch was spent in the plastic booth of my local McDonalds; so much so that the counter people knew my order when I walked into the door.

There are some foods, once staples, I can no longer enjoy without the fear of tears, and a flood of memory that would take whatever appetite I have and slam it against the ropes. Milk, Billy’s drink of choice with everything, has yet to pass my lips. I doubt if I will ever be able to eat an Oreo again. No more chocolate pudding or chocolate milk. Never. I have, however, broken through and started to buy Home Pride bread, and for me, that was a huge step. I also chow down Hostess Cupcakes. It was Billy’s favorite treat I’d bring home and you know what? I eat one pack every single night, and have for the past eight months. I eat them right before I go to bed and I eat them with abandon. Progress, people.

Moving to DC has really shaken things up, gastronomically. That doesn’t mean I still don’t find months long food obsessions and addict myself to them until I can no longer stomach it. That’s when it’s time to find another food – after the thought of my current one makes me want to hurl. My breakfast remains stable– a Super Big Gulp of Diet Coke from 7-11. It’s refreshing and quenches my thirst. Lunch is a wild card. Boy, oh, boy, working around these people where lunch is a collective decision has prevented me from settling into a nice, comfortable pattern and I’m not really very happy about it.

Dinner is back in my control and I am just starting to get out of the pizza phase; a period that started when I arrived in DC has only now begun to fade. I hate dinner, really. It’s a stupid yet necessary decision I'm forced to make every night on the way home from work and it's one I agonize over. That’s why I keep it to pizza. I can call on my way home from work and by the time I finish walking and feeding Bob, I am comfortably eating in front of the TV. But lately, I have ventured into the oliveloaf and cheese sandwich on Home Pride dinner, and I am very happy with it. I think it will be here for a while.

The only thing I drink is Diet Coke. After 3pm, it is Diet Coke Caffeine-Free. If I drink caffeine after that, it gives my insomnia a certain reason. I have a fear, some may find it unnatural, that I will come home some night and find the fridge empty of my need, my friend, my DCCF. I solve that fear by stocking up. You know what they say - you can never have too much. ruralrob posted a picture of the inside of his refrigerator. I thought I’d follow suit.

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