It’s easy to write what you know, but what about the things you don’t? What about the things that confuse you?
Journaling is supposed to be a way to figure stuff out. Blogging is like journaling, except when you finish, you don’t hide your words in a drawer.
There is one subject I can’t write about; food. I have spent my entire morning writing and trashing posts about it. I went back to look over the three food posts I’d written before, and without a doubt, I like them the least.
My relationship with food is complicated. This I know.
A little while ago I went upstairs to make sure Brian was awake. He asked me where his cords were, since I am in charge of laundry in this house. I had folded them in the closet when I couldn’t find a hangar, so I pointed them out and came back downstairs.
When he appeared just now, in his khaki pants, I asked what happened to the cords.
Sucking in his gut he said, “They’re too small, I’m getting fat.”
I think it’s amusing that I’ve been pondering the issue of weight and food all morning and this is my first adult conversation of the day.
I told him that it’s Winter. I always put on some weight this time of year and it always comes off in the Spring. Whether it’s because of the foods we choose to eat, or our bodies holding onto excess weight (in the cold) like cavemen used to do, I’m not sure. That’s a lie, the cake and ice cream I ate during last night’s (DVR’d) Boardwalk Empire surely has something to do with it.
My relationship with food may never be understood and I may never be able to write an inspired piece about it. I may wake every morning for the rest of my life committing to making good food choices, but only succeed some of the time.
It’s possible that this might be the most inspired I ever get on the subject. Since I know it, I can live with it, which makes it all okay.