Kangatopia

I did something today I shouldn’t have done. I did it because I’m exhausted, and when I get this tired, I do things which I know I will later view as destructive. After not eating very much yesterday, and also feeling a need to rejuvenate after yesterday’s not so seamless kick off to the seminar series I coordinate, I awoke this morning not wanting to wake, not wanting to rise, not wanting to go through the rough and tumble exercises of the morning which include dressing, bathing, feeding, ushering down 3 flights of stairs the fledgling crew and me. When the tire went flat, my urge to call in sick grew stronger. I didn’t. I knew if I did, I would receive hell for it at work - and as much as I would just like to put in my two weeks notice and start a new life, I can’t. I have to work. I have to make money. I don’t think my employer is ready to let me go, but it wouldn’t take much these days to tip them over the edge. It’s just like it was with Jack. I did something I knew would cause us to break up - that I loved him wasn’t in the equation. But, I sensed he wanted to break up with me anyway, and I only did him a favor. I hate waiting in limbo for the final judgment. I’m going to try to leave my job on my terms.

What I did today isn’t that big of a deal in the grand scheme of things. I didn’t steal, destroy or cheat. I just ate a large plate of nachos, and even while I was doing it, wondered why food like that makes me feel better, even when I also feel guilty. I did it because my weight loss has stagnated, and it’s frustrating and discouraging. I can’t seem to break through this plateau in spite of cycling harder and harder, and eating better. I did it because I need a break. I did it because I didn’t want to worry about finding something that would satisfy my base cravings. I did it because spinach is off the menu for a while, and that’s the main component of what I like to eat on better days than today.

Fucking spinach. My mother used to cook large pots of greens, and then make me eat some of it before I could leave the table. Traumatic nights of gagging and crying while I waited for a reprieve are trapped in my memory. I remember her mostly as being largely emotionally distant from us. I always felt like I was reaching out to her, trying to find something in her that I recognized from watching shows such as Happy Days, and reading stories about close knit families. Making her kids eat spinach just made her feel like a good mom. She believed that forcing us to consume something we hated was good for us. The truth is that spinach cooked with large amounts of butter and salt isn’t all that healthy, but her motivation was pure. I still hate boiled spinach and cooked greens. But, fresh? Fresh is grand. Delicious. Untainted.

It’s not the fault of the spinach producers and the spinach packing plants that I ate nachos today. I just think it’s kind of ironic. Would I have had a Subway wrap or salad instead of nachos if spinach weren’t such a health hazard right now? No. I would just be finding some other way to justify over-indulgence.