I'm not having a great day.
I'm sick and I spent the last four hours scrubbing clean an oven that I didn't mess up. I feel like that's a metaphor for my entire life right now, and I'm tired. I'm tired, I'm cranky, I'm feeling neglected and I'll admit it, a little under-appreciated in every aspect of my life.
Normally, this would result in me crash-landing head first into a plate of cookies, a pile of french fries, a giant cupcake, or a bag of chips- or all of the above.
I scrubbed out that oven, charcoal bits flying everywhere, muttering to myself, scripting an argument in my head that I'll never actually say out loud, and all I thought of was what treat I was going to reward and soothe myself with after.
In the shower, I leaned against the tiles and swore softly, angry at myself and feeling alone. This was definitely a hard core sweet-and-salty emergency.
With wet hair and flip-flops, I ran downstairs to the convenient (har) little store in our building. I picked up a bottle of old faithful, my Diet Coke, and sought out the snack that would make me feel happy.
One bag of famous amos chocolate chip cookies came back up to our apartment with me.
And then I thought about it.
Would eating those cookies by myself on the couch; shoving them mindlessly into my mouth REALLY make me feel better? Would that really resolve the feelings of inadequacy and being overwhelmed? Would that really answer my problems and make me feel better about being un-invited (but please send a gift!!) to a stupid baby shower?
So I planned out a reasonable meal; cottage cheese, fruit, and some natural peanut butter on toast. Sweet, creamy, salty and crunchy. And all for less calories than that little, tiny, disapointing bag of bland cookies would contain.
And when my boyfriend gets home, he had better freaking appreciate that clean oven.