It's funny how things happen. I'm pretty weird in some ways. Self-conscious about strange things. People judging the food that I'm buying at the grocery store is one such thing. Probably because I'm pretty quick to check out what other people are consuming. And not always for culinary inspiration.
It happened today. A vehement exposure to the phobia. There was potential for disaster, but everything sort of worked out. It's not quite that simple though, I'm afraid.
The usual Saturday sees me clinging to the bed, couch, kitchen table or some combination of all three. Depending on the variable degree of debauchery that occurred in the 12 hours prior, my behaviour is undeniably affected. This morning I awoke in a haze; a little lighter of a fog than usual. To my surprise. I had no food in my house save a bag of almonds. They're smaller and more chewy than in Canada. If in this instance, my cupboards had been stocked, I likely would have gorged on the most substandard foods in my pantry (I don't really have a pantry). Alternatively, I would have limped and lugged myself to the grocery store, where I would have bought frozen foods and microwavable shit. Just another day in the life. These are the times when my fears really get amplified. When I'm a hypocrisy.
I was about to head to the store to fill a cart with caloric garbage. I say cart because baskets are difficult to come by. I remembered about a bag of oatmeal. At this pivotal point, I decided that because I felt relatively well, I would eat the oatmeal instead of running for pre-packaged sandwiches. I'm glad I did. I threw in a mammoth glass of tea for good measure. I decided to go to the "supermarket" anyways. I was in the mood. Furthermore, the prospect of lunch and Sunday loomed.
A moment of fear. I didn't have the right coin to get a cart. By divine intervention, I managed to snipe one of the only baskets in the place. My ability to carry goods, and my trip itself, would have been crippled had I not found this conveniently placed plastic rectangular food-hold. Examining my list, I navigated from the bananas, -To the milk, to the chicken breasts and frozen vegetables. All with ruthless efficiency. A rapidly diminishing hangover, and original healthy choices catalyzed a zest about me that helped spawn further healthy choices. My basket brimming of foodstuffs was closer to that of an athlete than a couch potato. I think that's the way I should try and appear, regardless of what's the truth.
I found a short line. Then rested my basket of low-carb options, on the ground. As I admiringly and narcissistically placed my soon-to-be purchases on the conveyor belt, someone was asking me a question. I spun around. A supermodel pointed at my basket. She said a string of words I couldn't interpret. I understood the gist of what she was saying though. I told her I didn't understand and offered her the coveted-basket. She spoke English. We chatted briefly about how lucky I was to have the only basket in the store.
I looked at my food and smiled. I don't care if she saw it; the principle provides me an odd vindication. Because of one positive choice an experience seemingly completely unrelated went much better than it originally might have. The implications are everywhere. Or maybe I'm overanalyzing mundane stuff to fish for theories. I guess that's the scientific method though.
Anyways, just another piece of fodder in the war of attrition that is this blogging game. Nothing to see here. Just trying to wrack up my 10,00 hours. Thanks for enduring.
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