i've been thinking all morning about french fries. you know how sometimes you fantasize about some food for so long that the actual experience is pre-ordained to pale in comparison. i hate that. i really wanted those french fries i had for lunch to solve all my problems. and decorate my living room. but really it's just another notch in my belt of crappy food choices lately. i didn't need to eat all that pizza this weekend. i didn't need to make ben and jerry the first occupants of my new freezer. no matter how many calories i burned hauling boxes up stairs.
part of it is that i don't have the time or the supplies to make real food right now. but mostly, being under the smallest bit of strain encourages me to give myself permission to eat badly. i treat stress like a free pass, when probably i'd feel much better if i did a little more to eat decent food. i do the same things every time i'm under pressure. and fall into the same traps. i end up feeling physically ill, emotionally weak, and usually financially wrecked. all of which, of course, stress me out more. and on and on.
i have a few more nights of living in two houses, packing and driving all night, and buying stuff i can't actually afford (two words: well pump). i just have to make the most of what i have for two more nights. the only thing i have going for me is the insane amount of calories you burn while pushing a mattress up a flight of stairs. better than nothing i suppose.