Petulant Foodie

Confession: I tend to get grumpy when I don't get the food I want. I find, however, that it's much worse when someone else chooses the restaurant and I feel dragged along; in those cases, I can become almost irrationally upset. Al knows this about me, and thus when I don't get the thing I want because of his or the waiter's mistake, he'll be the one to speak up and make it right. I admire both his chivalry and his cleverness, and I lament my childish poutiness.

When there's no one but myself to blame for a bad meal, I punish myself by eating it. Why, I have no idea, for it is punishment indeed—not only am I eating without enjoyment, but I'm stuffing unsatisfying calories into my already-overfed body.

This topic comes to mind now because today I had a lousy lunch and a disappointing treat—and I practically inhaled both. It was like bad sex: rather than saying "stop! This isn't working for me" and either trying something new or just putting down the damn fork, I faked the orgasm and hoped it would all end soon.

This is not good. I'd like to get to a point where I can enjoy an amazing meal without remorse AND push the plate away when what I'm eating is neither nourishing me nor knocking my socks off. As with many parts of my life—food is certainly not the only problem area—I'm not shy about telegraphing my extreme joy or my supreme annoyance. Evening out my relationship with food might just be the first step toward developing a poker face in other situations, too. Hmmmm. Food for thought.

Posted by Lori in food at 8:41 PM on July 5, 2008