The tough questions

You know when children go through that phase of asking ‘why’ more times a day than their life is worth? Some days I think I never left that zone. When I’m at work, I’d like to think that my ‘why’ questions are helpful or in the latest parlance, ‘value-add’.

When at home, sometimes I want to ask the tough questions. Things like:

  • why does traffic snarl?
  • why does some cat poo float and not others? and
  • what is the purpose of snot?

These critical questions shall have to wait, for tonight, I have a fourth more burning question.

Why does food which is bad for you taste good and ‘good’ food taste, well, bad?

If a carrot is so much better for you than a raspberry and almond muffin, why does the muffin win the taste war? And why is it that it’s the BAD item which is called ‘comfort’ food. No one says a salad is comforting. Take that muffin again for a moment. MUFFIN. Yes. Does it not sound more like a hug than a stringy, pathetic piece of lettuce? (Yes, those added adjectives give away my bias).

I used to fit here without issue

When I started lite n’ easy last week I tried to tell myself that food is fuel. Food is like sleep; a necessity but one can have too much of it. Of course, this argument sucked; it wobbled at the first sight of challenge; it fell quickly on its sword as I reminisced about how much I love my nana naps.

I actually think I’d fare reasonably well, were it not for stress induced eating. (That’s code for: ‘I had a bad day, now give me some chocolate.’) So perhaps I should focus less on the food and more on the stress?

Take today as an example. I wanted to call the person a short sighted, narrow minded fool. I did not. I ate the said raspberry muffin instead as the consequences of saying what I really thought were not as palatable.

If you’re thinking this is one of those blog posts with a neat beginning, middle and end, with the moral all sealed up and delivered, you’d be wrong. I don’t have an end to this post. I’m not quite sure what to do when I get stressed; I’m not sure how to avoid the chocolate slice; the corn chips or the naan bread.

My only idea is they should allow cats at work. Particularly 5 month old deaf ones. While the old girls are asleep on the floor, Gesso is chasing the invisible monster. He makes me laugh. Perhaps I could smuggle him in to my office… do you think anyone would notice?


Posted on January 18, 2012, in Life and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 4 Comments.

  1. How do you know some cat poo floats and others doesn’t? I like lettuce, but it has to be the right kind. I do not see the point of iceberg. Tasteless. Live the pic of Pickle, and although I am not sure about taking Gesso to work, I read that offices that allow dogs are much happier places. Makes sense to me!

  2. I agree with everything. And another thing, why did they make me milk and biscuit monitor when I’m trying to avoid the nice things in life? Our office has the most delicious, tastiest, luxurious selection of biccies they’ve ever had now. Comfort buying – the next best thing….

  3. Ah. I read that here you shouldn’t flush cat and dog poo down the loo as some toxins or something are not dealt with by our filter system. Maybe it is different in Oz. not Cat digs holes in the garden most of the time. Otherwise he has a oee on a small a mount of cat litter that lies on several layers of newspaper. That goes in the bin, so not entirely satisfactory. Of course, if he has poo on the boat that floats…

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