An Effort to End Nutritional Ignorance
Don’t buy it and you wont eat it. Ok there are some corollaries to this, which seems to happen to me frequently. We’re at a gathering and the stars have aligned, and I am shockingly not putting a smackdown on the hors d’oeuvre table, but a friend or cousin whisks by, forcing a cracker loaded with a hot, drippy mess on it. Though I’m not hungry, it does look delicious, so I have a spilt second to dispose of it with my mouth, or wear it on my shirt the rest of the evening.
Or alternately, I’m diligently typing away at work (probably on an important email about who’s volunteering to be the sober driver on the wine tasting tour next weekend—not me!!!) enjoying a moment when food is not on the brain, and a cheerful co-worker slides a styrofoam plate on to my desk with a slice of red velvet cake and a white plastic fork. Now for me, desserts are like sunsets. I like them all; some are more enjoyable than others, but as a whole I thoroughly enjoy them. Though strangely, I don’t like red velvet cake, but there is a 100% chance I am going to eat the slice now on my desk because it’s THERE staring at me. And before a can re-focus on my ultra-important email, I need to take care of it.
However, in general, if it’s not in my house, I wont eat it. If there’s no ice cream in the freezer, I can’t scrape the carton clean. If there’re no oatmeal cream pies, I can’t finish the box. [Years ago, I actually found and demolished my roommate’s entire box of Little Debbie oatmeal cream pies one night while studying medical school. On a super tight budget, she was furious. But, after I’d replaced them, her sideways glances seemed more concerned than angry. This was one of many clues, I needed help].
So don’t buy junk. And don’t let your roommates buy junk. You’ll eat it.