My belly is now paying the price for this illogical and irresistible impulse. And so is my head for I cannot work. My mind has apparently sunk to my stomach where it rests, fat on fuel in a state of uncomfortable doze. Too full, too full, it groans as the belly burbles and undulates. And was that cup of tea absolutely necessary?
Too late! If you didn't know it then, you sure know it now. Groan, can't move, can't think. My belly now resembles a little pot which had it been dinner time would have been quite happy simmering away. It's the hour of the day that's the issue and not so much the food mindfully ate, coupled with the fact my belly refuses to naturally stretch being so used to suppression.
It doesn't feel hunger in-between meals and so waits for (and looks forward to) reward at an appointed time. Snacks, if they are any, are forced. Although if a meal's late or missed, then grouchiness sets in which means when a window opens restraint is abandoned, but then, of course, the after-affect is as above.
Lunch has always been a bit of a problem. Because there's a wanting to, a need to eat, but I prefer breakfast and dinner. Lunch, if not a grabbed affair, is an excuse to sit, chew and idly read. A break to revive, to enliven me for what needs to be tackled after which is why if a unexpected heaviness settles I'm done for!
It takes very little to tip that balance, as you may have noted, and even questioned. I should eat more because what I eat doesn't pack a calorific punch, yet leaves no room for grazing. I'm regularly stunned by what others can put away, at a cracking pace too, whereas my stomach heaves at the thought of three courses in the space of an hour or two or an all-you-can-eat buffet. My standardised portions, though not American sized, are bigger than some restaurants who want you to also order starters and sides with your main, which I don't, but whilst mine look more than substantial their nutrient density makes them low in fat and energy, which is ironic because everyone always comments on what I'm able to put away.
With slow digestibility too. A boon for those wanting to slim but not if you wish for the opposite.
A few extra pounds would be welcome, but done healthily and not through the consumption of junk. We all, however, in my opinion, have screwed-up relations with food, though this, of course, is helped by external factors. The food industry being a whopper as they've neglected the visual aspect with regards to size. And yes, I'm talking ready-meals and fast food, because visually a single portion has the appearance of a snack except it has a truck-load of calories. But that was the old days when it was novel and when nutritional information either didn't need to be supplied or wasn't as scrutinised as it is now...or is it?
In these latter years, we seem to be veering to the other extreme: virtually advocating taking on board no calories at all. Vegetable rice or spaghetti, I ask you! Great with pulses, potatoes, pasta or grains, but not instead of! How the hell do you survive? Unless you're secretly pigging out in a cupboard or making midnight runs. I don't want to knock it being a veggie, but I couldn't live without some form of carbs. Proper carbs.
I'm a die-hard throwback to times when work was hard and food was scarce, as in short in supply and variety, and eaten for substance alone. And like people then, I occasionally fall into that trap where potatoes and bread fill my belly, possibly to the detriment of other nutrition, including that of writing.
Picture credit: The Potato Eaters, Vincent van Gogh
