Today was the epitome of a Monday. If you looked “Monday” up in the dictionary, there would be a photo of today.

It didn’t help that I was cranky from the start. I didn’t get a great night’s sleep last night, so I was tired today. I was hustling through work, just trying to keep up, and didn’t have time for lunch. I survived on a banana and complimentary meeting cookies. I got home and Justin was still at work, toiling away on a new freelance project. The kitty cats were starving, and all I wanted was for someone to hand-feed me a slice of pizza. While I sat on the couch. Curled up in my grandma’s quilt.

But Justin did come home, and he took me to Vivo for puffy tacos and a frozen margarita. And we talked and laughed and even went grocery shopping afterward (where I bought a bag full of chocolate covered raisins, because they help make life easier). And everything seems manageable now.

At about 5:00 this evening, I had decided that my latest vegetarian stint was OVER. I wanted pepperoni pizza, and chicken tortilla soup, and braised pork belly. I realized that not eating animals is much harder when you’ve been eating animals nonstop for months. Especially when you’re cranky and stressed out and in search of comfort food.

I didn’t eat meat tonight, because Vivo has great vegetarian enchiladas and puffy tacos stuffed with beans and cabbage. But what about tomorrow night? What about next week, when we go to New Orleans with our foodie friends, and everyone is eating cracklins and oysters and heritage turkey? I just don’t know, friends. It seems that I’m destined to always fret over what I eat and don’t eat. Vegetarian? Omnivorous? Local? Organic? Humanely raised? Seasonal? Nutritious?

Of all the things I worry about, food is probably the biggest. Of course I worry about money, and health, and peace on earth and good will toward men. But my daily struggle is with food. Sometimes I regret getting a degree in nutrition, because it has given me the knowledge that makes simple decisions (like “what’s for lunch”) into difficult ones… especially for someone as perfectionistic and worrisome as myself. But I know that I’m healthier than most, that I eat well most of the time, and that in the end, I’ll be okay. I just have to remind myself of that in those moments when I’m freaking out about food.

Internets, do you fret about food, too? Is it just me? I read a book recently about how women are trained to want to be “effortlessly perfect”… to dress well, be thin and fit, eat well, hold a full-time job, have a clean house and a great marriage, and do it all with a smile. It’s annoying to me that women are expected to be this way… but it annoys me even more that I expect it of myself.

I don’t really have a point here, just putting my thoughts out there. Until tomorrow, internets… sweet dreams.

7 responses to “Monday.”

  1. Food is definitely one of the things I worry about too. We’re pretty much to the point now that we do about 90% of our shopping at the farmers market, trying hard to eat mostly just what’s in season and eating only local, humanely-raised meats. At work, if someone randomly brings in a storebought pie or something, I always turn it down and figure it won’t hurt their feelings. But the times that I worry are when they bring something homemade and it would be impolite in an office of only 9 people to refuse the food that they took the time to make…But then I feel like it goes against my values because it’s made with factory-farmed meat and canned veggies. So I’ll take just a few bites to at least make them feel good but then immediately after I think, “Okay, so I made that person feel good, but I also just tacitly supported abuse of workers and animals and harm to the environment.” It’s a tricky situation and honestly, I don’t know the answers either. I kind of just see how each situation pans out, but it’s always something that makes me worry. It’s also why I like to cook for other people when I visit them at their house. I like to be in control of the ingredients because I don’t want to refuse something that they make.

    Anyway, yes, there are more food-worriers out there! You are not alone!

  2. Oh–thought I’d add this too..Tomorrow is our Thanksgiving potluck at work and I’m already worrying about what foods will be present and trying to figure out if I’ll be able to get away with just eating the dishes I’m bringing…

  3. Nicole, I’m so glad to hear I’m not alone! Today is also our work Thanksgiving potluck, and I have the same thoughts going through my head. 🙂

    I feel the same way… like I’m a burden if I have to ask for a vegetarian meal or not partake in a meal, but it’s true… we can only take care of ourselves, we can only make ourselves happy, and at the end of the day, though it may seem selfish to some, we have to do what’s right for us (whatever that may be). Good luck today at your potluck! 🙂

  4. Crystal, I totally understand what you’re talking about… food is such a source of stress, whether it be the calories, or the wages of the people serving it, or whether it’s local/organic/heritage blah blah blah buzzwords.

    I’ll have to read the book you’re talking about… it sounds fascinating! And let’s pledge to eat lots of veggies in Louisiana. 🙂

  5. Rachel, I have “Eating Animals” on my Kindle… you could totally read it on the way to Louisana. Or maybe we should all read it aloud together… 😉

  6. i fret about food too. i worry about getting all the appropriate nutrients. i worry about balance. and yes, i worry about too many calories and too much fat. it is strange, because i worry about food more than i should- it is a top worry of mine. why? is it because we’re told that we should always ‘worry’ about food?

  7. I think it is an age thing. When I was your age I used to fret about potlucks and family events, but now that I am older. . . . . I eat what I want when I want. . . . . I do not stress over food any more.

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