I’ve started really looking forward to my morning bowl of oatmeal, thinking about how nice it will be to wake up to before I go to bed. Cinnamon roll was my favorite flavor for awhile, but it’s now been supplanted by baked apple. I don’t recall looking forward this much to eating before, mostly because I never waited to eat before. Most of my life I just ate whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted, consuming all the natural resources in the refrigerator like an evil, corporate mining operation. Only I was digging for ice cream instead of coal.
Now I try to eat less calories than I burn and to eat only when I’m hungry. This means I don’t get to eat that much. I’m envious of big burly guys who get to consume over 2000 calories a day, whereas I’m stuck in the mid-1000 calorie range. Every meal counts. Anticipating meals becomes like a session of foreplay where I’m kept in sweet anticipation of my climax of flavor.
I had a coupon for the hippie, organic store, so I decided to try some veggie burgers to have for lunch. I heated up the perfectly disc-shaped “burger” and plopped it on a slice of whole-wheat bread with a slice of American cheese. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t that great either. When I was done picking melted cheese off the roof of my mouth, I thought “Man, I wasted a lunch on this?” It was similar to regretting shaving my legs for a bad date. Now that the quantity of what I eat has decreased, I put a lot more value in the quality of what I stick in my mouth. I want every meal to be enjoyable. It makes food more precious than it ever was before.