Food and I have been spatting again. It’s either that I’m not hungry or I’m tremendously hungry but absolutely nothing sounds good. My mind finds something wrong with every option, unless it’s fruit or coffee. Not that I have that many options to begin with – my school doesn’t really offer much real food for vegetarians. For the poor vegans it’s just about hell. Dinner usually comes in the form of “this indiscernable brown mush” or “that other indiscernable brown mush that also happens to be incorrectly spiced.” Or maybe that’s just my perception of it. In any case, most of what my cafeteria is serving – whether it’s breakfast, lunch or dinner – get’s categorized in my head under the label “of something I don’t particularly want to eat.”
But surely there must be something you say? Well, maybe. There might be, like, one thing available at each meal that gets close to passable. The problem is that I also had that one thing yesterday. And the day before that. And the week before that. And the month before that. So, you see, I’m a bit tired of it by now.
So, I’m usually left wandering around for five… ten… fifteen minutes idly glancing at packages or standing in one place and staring intently at a fridge wall, attempting to pep talk my way into picking something up. And I’m worried, because this indecisive syndrome isn’t confined to school – it’s happening in just about every food situation now. I went to Trader Joe’s earlier to pick up a snack (I, uh, *cough cough* kinda forgot/didn’t have time/didn’t want to eat lunch), remembered that oh yeah, that thing called dinner was supposed to happen later, and decided I might as well pick something up for that too, while I had access to food that was more real than what the school convenience store was going to offer. I spent half an hour looping the aisles only to walk out with a package of pomegranate seeds and a bag of dried fruit. So much for dinner.
Later, I decided that I would try for dinner again, since that bothersome sensation in my stomach wasn’t letting me focus on the homework that I didn’t want to do anyway. I went to the school C store and once again spent around twenty minutes wandering around its ten foot-by-ten foot interior, unable to get myself to actually choose something. Other students came in, grabbed something, and walked out. Several sets of other students, actually. And all the while, I was just standing there, rotating between the freezer sections, telling myself that I needed to have something with more nutritional merit – and calories – than a protein bar. After entirely too long a period of frustration, I managed to make myself pull an Amy’s frozen dinner out of the freezer and was even able to throw in a Naked juice, though not until I’d opened and closed the fridge door at least five times.
Oy. I’ve got problems.