C is for cookie. That’s good enough for me.
I’m gonna go off on a tangent here (if it’s possible to go on a tangent on a blog about nothing in particular that nobody reads except me) and talk about my troublesome relationship with food.
The trouble, basically, is that I’m not very good at feeding myself. I mean, my fine motor skills are adequate. But I experience an abnormal amount of stress around the ideas of planning and preparing and storing meals for myself. I enjoy food, very much, when other people make it; I just can’t seem to love cooking the way some people do. When I’m hungry, I want to eat NOW, not thirty minutes from now after I’ve chopped and mixed and sautéed. When I’m not hungry, I can’t be bothered to think about food. Hence I end up eating whatever takes the shortest amount of time to get from shelf to face. I think I would starve if bananas didn’t exist.
Some people who know me have picked up on this, and taken pity. I have a friend who invites me over for dinner at least once a week, and is so concerned for my nutritional welfare that she sends me home with Tupperware containers full of leftovers to see me through the next few days as well. I’m sure it helps that I’m pathetically grateful when people feed me. Just today my roommate chided me for calling her the “best roommate ever” simply because she offered me some leftover pea soup in the fridge. But honestly, gestures like that can make the difference between a healthy, well-rounded lunch and a microwaved burrito.
The funny thing is, a lot of other people see me as some kind of ultra-health nut nutritionist superstar. I mean, the quickie things I grab tend to be things like organic roasted cashews and fresh fruit, rather than potato chips and Twinkies, and I avoid meat, dairy, eggs, refined sugar, caffeine, yeast, wheat, processed foods, GMOs, trans fats, (pause for breath) and anything that has spent too long in the bottom of a frying pan. So I guess I’m doing okay. But I’d like to stop having paroxysms of inferiority whenever I’m confronted with a recipe book. Besides, I’m pretty much a sell-out, as far as health nuts go. Put a plate of homemade chocolate chip cookies in front of me and I will eat them all without blinking. I just can’t be bothered to bake them myself, you see.