My appetite, which disappeared for about a month, has come back with a vengeance. At four o’clock today, I was craving food, and not just any food—chips. Chips were not allowed in our household growing up. We had potato chips twice a year: New Year’s Eve and the Fourth of July. Doritos could be found in our house only on the rare occasions when mom made her taco casserole. The doctrine in our house concerning chips: they are essentially evil and should be avoided at all costs. Did that stop me from eating them? On the contrary, I would embarrass myself by downing entire bagfuls at friends’ houses while watching Crocodile Dundee. That’s the problem; I have very little control over my chip eating behavior. Hence, I have learned to embrace my family doctrine. I just do. not. buy.
So, today. The evil demon inside of me was craving chips. I tried to sooth it by insisting that it was just hungry and that waiting at home was some lovely lentil barley stew with carrots, celery, and spinach. Yumm. Was the evil demon appeased? No. It roared even more loudly. “I don’t want any of your stinkin’ stew! I want fat. Lots and lots of fat. And salt. Must have salt and fat!” So I succumbed. I know. I am weak. And that isn’t the worst of it. I didn’t buy just one bag of chips to ease the craving, oh no, I had to buy two. *hides in shame.* (A lovely pico de gallo corn chip and the Terra exotic vegetable chips. Because even though I did break down, I did it in style.) I couldn’t even wait until I drove home. No, I ripped both of those suckers open in the parking lot and had at them.
Right afterwards I engaged in my yoga practice for the day. I felt severely compromised. There I sat practicing, listening to the woman talk about how I should rejoice in my healthy body that I was purging of toxins, when not just 15 minutes before I had crammed my face full of them. What a hypocrite.
Yet, now the demon is happy.