I'm sitting at a local bagel joint enjoying my coffee - black, the highest priced fruit cup the establishment can dare charge for, and see a woman walk in. You know the type. Blonde pony tail peeking out from under a baseball cap. Shapely, tanned legs soaring out of her gym shoes and into her little exercise skirt. Her arms are toned and her tank top fits perfectly; the only bumps are perky and right where they belong. What does she order? A bagel with a big, oozy shmear of cream cheese, juice, and adds extra sugar and cream to her coffee.
Is this the only meal that she eats all day? Is she bulimic? Does she actually use those tennies to run or play tennis?
Oh, cute, perky blonde lady. I really want to sneer at your schmear. I want to find a varicose vein or see an unruly child, so I can count my blessings or feel that your life isn't as perfect as it seems.
Today I'm facing a toxic attitude about food. I woke up and, because we're out of milk, I was paralysed. No cereal, no toast, it didn't matter. For lunch, even if I had money and time, I still wouldn't go out and get lunch. I want it brought to me with someone else thinking, planning, preparing and presenting. Luckily enough, there are leftovers from last night that I can grab. I had a plan for dinner and knew that I wouldn't want to make it when I come home from work. Luckily enough, I made a pasta salad that we can have tonight. Low-cal? No, but it's a better choice than ordering out Chinese or pizza which is what I'm likely to do if this attitude continues. I might not be making the best choices, but at least I have a plan.
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