You know how you have a bowl of cereal, and there's too much cereal, so you
add some milk, but then there's too much milk and ... ?
Well, that's bits and calories for me. I dine alone, with bits in hand, and
I find myself alternately stretching one or the other until they reach
mutual climax. I didn't even notice myself subconsciously rereading the
crap in that freezine until I realized I was doing it to finish the
*entire* half-pound of bread, butter, and romano cheese.
I do this with the Times, with prime-time TV, you name it. Food really
doesn't exist in itself; it's a background task to be interleaved with
something else. So far, so good, right? But then it gets interleaved with
*everything* else: a coke walking to work, a fruit bar with email, and so
on. Worst of all, it substitutes for boredom. Whenever I get to LA, Adam
and I keep trying to work by hopping from cafe to restaurant to drive-thru.
It seems like the only public spaces left in LA to work are all
food-related (since the bookstores have become such 'destinations'... :-( ).
In the larger scheme of things, this isn't worrisome; it's not even a
binge. The lesson continues to be that I don't treat food as something for
myself, determined by myself, it's something absorbed from the environment.
I didn't decide if I wanted 2oz or 4 oz or 8 oz of bread today; I just
started eating and didn't stop. I clean my plate, not out of greed OR
obligation, but by habit.
I wonder if sex ever gets boring like this? :-)
PS. Even though in one sense I'm 1/3 of the way towards my 'goal', I've
enjoyed how much healthier it is not to measure '%age completed' in favor
of 'wow! some progress at all!' instead. Recommended.
--- Rohit Khare /// MCI Internet Architecture (BOS) /// email@example.com Voice+Pager: (617) 960-5131 VNet: 370-5131 Fax: (617) 960-1009