Ignoring the grease spots on the paper, I tore off a glorious piece of the holy cookie and shoved in my mouth. I'm not lying when I say I felt like a woman in those old Herbal Essences commercials. Gooey. Caramel. Toffee. Soft on the inside, crispy and chew on the edges. Even though it was giant, it didn't last long (that's what she said!)
Shortly after I finished eating it, a co-worker friend of mine IM'd me to ask how my day was. I earnestly answered, "I just had the best cookie of my entire life. So pretty good."My planned four months of crazy dieting before the wedding are going to be hell.
Food is wonderful. I love food. Not as fond of the making-me-fat aspect of it, but a while ago (probably around the time Ryan asked me out) I resolved to stop viewing food as an enemy hell bent on ruining my life, and see it as something totally OK to enjoy. In moderation. In quantities smaller than what Olympic athletes eat.
Part of what I love about food is the social aspect of it. Especially this past year (wow, cannot believe it's almost been that long) that I've lived in community, with 4-7 other housemates. At least 2-3 nights a week, we take turns cooking for everyone else in the house. We eat together, usually while watching a delightfully awful reality TV show on Netflix, and enjoy each other's company. I look forward to these meals, both when I'm cooking and eating for free. When I move out, memories of these meals will be something I look back on fondly.
Shared meals are also a way to spend time with the other people in my life I care about, who I don't share a bathroom or kitchen with. Last night was one of those. A married couple from church that Ryan and I are becoming better friends with invited us over for a taco dinner, and to watch a movie they were horrified neither of us had seen. Prior to going over there, I IM'D Josh, who I work with, to ask what we could bring.
Part of our conversation went like this:
Joshsoda maybe? We dont have that
Emily: ok cool, I love me some coke. Any preference?
JoshNope. Not diet. Zero is ok. So yes ha
Emilyyeah, zero is our fav
Joshreg cherry or van?
EmilyI like van or cherry, ryan's not a fan of van
but likes cherry
Josh: we dig all
Emily: k. me too.
What normally would be a fairly innocuous, mundane decision making process, for whatever reason yesterday, totally floored me.
My life is filled with so many choices.
Where to eat. What to wear. Which Christmas party to attend. Which store to pick up gifts from. Which mall to shop at. When to get married. Where to go on my honeymoon. What type of calorie free but not diet soda flavor to pick up from the store.
Yet, so much of my day, when not choosing things, is spent complaining about my lack of choices.
"I can only afford to buy clothes from Old Navy or Target, not higher end stores."
"There's not enough money to go on a week long honeymoon."
"I can't afford to buy a new car."
"We can't go out to eat until after I get paid, so we have to eat at home."
"Christmas this year is going to be really small."
and of course
"I can't be 100% happy because I'm fat."
How absurd. That these are the things I so often focus on, when my life is incredibly, overwhelmingly, mindbogglingly (sorry for the adverbs) blessed. It's sickening really, how good I have it, compared to so many people around the world. Other Americans too. With my good job. Loving supportive relationship. Car. Healthy happy family. Money in the bank. The right to marry who I want.
Knowing how many choices I have - this holiday season I'm choosing to make one more. I'm choosing to focus more on how much I have, than how much I want. And how lucky I am that tonight, I get to sit in the living room with my housemates, shadowed by the lights on our 7 ft tree, eating the (hopefully not too burned) soup I've made. With a big box of Tums in my bathroom, just in case.
(Disclaimer: presents given to me, while not demanded or necessary, will be happily accepted.. Especially ones in stockings hung on a chimney with care.)
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