Saturday, April 25, 2009

I’m a total sucker for airplane food*

Which may be the key to explaining my current contentment.

I’m not doing the environmentally correct thing; and I hate to admit this because I am the person who hates shampoo bottles and thinks we should be allowed to keep one and refill it direct from vats at the store to cut down on plastic waste, but I’ve been buying precut veggies and salads in non-reusable plastic bags and plastic containers and it feels GREAT.

Part of maintaining this current go at healthy eating has been the wonderful ease of buying pre-packaged salads and veggies. My brain associates cutting yummy, fresh, healthy veggies up and partitioning them into reusable plastic bins with depravation and misery. My brain hates taking care of me. It would rather eat half a stale bag of potato chips of questionable origin than make tuna for a sandwich. It would rather dig for 45 minutes though every kitchen bin imaginable for a few errant tootsie roll minis than whip up some whole wheat pasta. My brain: Functional Retardation at its finest (surprised we made it this far, actually).

I keep fresh fruit at my work desk, apples and oranges mostly, along with whole natural almonds and yogurts in the work fridge. I swing by the store on my way in and grab one or two of those veggies that steam in the bag (which I eat raw) and a premade salad by the bagged salads, and I’m happy. If I made the salad myself at home I’d resent it. I’d be angry at it. I’d go to sleep thinking “stupid salad” and wake up thinking “I hate that salad” and by lunch I’d be like “I hate that salad and my life and I’m hungry and I want a cheeseburger with onion rings now gobdamnit”. If I open my fridge and see rows of great, fresh, bite sized veggies in easy to grab containers a dark cloud settles over my mood and won’t go away. I apparently enjoy mystery in my life; I don’t want to know what I’m eating for lunch days ahead of time unless the words “buffet” and perhaps “all you can eat” are included.

I don’t know why my brain is like this; all I know is that it is. And I now know that I can bypass that whole loop if I buy my veggies precut and cleaned and my salads prepackaged all cute like. Hence airplane food: Give me two crackers in a tiny package and 1/8 ounce of peanut butter and I’m delighted. I don’t even like peanuts, or pretzels covered in “fiesta” spices, but if you put three or four in a tiny bag I’m all over it. Which may be why I’m so digging the current diet set up: It’s like vacation food. I don’t have to think about it, I don’t have to put any work into it, the calorie calculations are done by others and there are no plastic containers to clean out. Plus the mystery is still there: there aren’t five tubs of cucumbers and five tubs of salad and five tubs of tomatoes sitting in my fridge angrily nagging at me that I’m fat and a failure and they are all I can eat. No, my fridge is happy and veggie tub free and my brain is fooled by buying things in small doses.

I don’t have to worry about buying, cleaning, cutting, and preparing food for the week. I can wander into the store like a “normal” person and buy normal people food and I don’t feel deprived. I’m not spending hours of my week meal planning raw veggies and therefore focusing on my eating habits and therefore wallowing in self loathing. I can spend those extra hours a week wallowing in different kinds of self loathing, trying to find a new job, loathing, trying to find a new apartment, loathing, struggling with my credit, loathing, yelling at my wrinkles, loathing, you know, normal stuff.

Soon I may be bitching to you about my need for variety. I would love to see some jicama and beets precut and packaged for my convenience, I’m sure cauliflower and broccoli is going to start to wear on me, you know? But that shall be a post for another time.


If only I weren’t creating so much damn trash I wouldn’t have this nagging feeling of guilt but one thing at a time people, one thing at a time.

*Though luncheables are disgusting and can F themselves. That is one twee prepackaged meal I won’t touch with a ten foot pole.

I sent this post as an email to myself to publish later and all the google ads along the side were this:

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Mmmmm, think they data mine the content of emails much? Because I'm not chalking this one up to coincidence.


sallyacious said...

Isn't that interesting? We seem to have traded attitudes. I am THRILLING on my fresh, made by me salads (though I do buy a plastic tub full of pre-washed greens). I am BAKING for the first time in years, and I am actually eating right for the first time since I moved out of my parents' house, I think.

Who knows why.

I'm happy with the arrangement. Don't try giving that attitude back to me, Missy, I don't want it.

Andy said...

That comedy. If you adapt this post for stage and be the character that your written voice took here, which shouldn't be a problem, then you've got quite an act.