I was out and about in Williamstown today. I was alone. I was hungry. There were cafes. Delis. Fish and chip shops. Supermarkets with new yummies.
I realised something. It is overwhelming. It is no wonder overweight is such a problem. We are bombarded with food porn. It is not safely tucked away in Club X.
Do I get something (and what), and then lambast myself for the rest of the day? Do I deny myself that thing and feel anxious for the rest of the day? Find a corner to curl up in the foetal position and rock back and forth muttering “it’s everywhere. It’s ALIVE! AL-I-HI-HI-HI-HI- IIIIVE!!!”
Or do I see the feeling for what it is and just walk on past and wait for the lunch I have lovingly packed and move on. Forget about it. Find something else to think about (at work, there is no shortage of things, alas).
I am beginning to have the control over food, not it over me. It is an inanimate object. It does not talk, crooning, eeeeeat me. EEEEEAT me. I was just imagining it, all along.
I have just watched the Britney episode of glee. LUUUUUUUUUUVED it.
I am still full of snot.