All the diet and exercise magazines are going to strongly recommend against what I'm about to say, but I don't care. Sometimes we need food to make us feel better. There! I've said it! Are you suprised?
Did I just go against every single fitness magazine that I've ever read that has said over and over, stop having an emotional relationship with food! It will make you fat! Food is fuel and nothing more!
Look people, the day food is nothing more then fuel, is the day that sex is nothing but a means of reproduction. It's the day that clothing, including silks, cashmeres, pretty dresses and hot jeans are nothing more then what we use to hide our nakedness and shelter our bodies from the elements. The day that food is nothing but fuel is the day that all the beauty in the world ceases to be important.
Am I being melodramatic? I don't think so. Every culture knows what I'm talking about. The preparation of a good meal is an act of love. Sitting together at a communal table, what is more elemental, what is more essential to what it means to be human, and alive, and AWARE. Food is love.
Ok, all that said, where am I going with this? This all started because, me being stressed out about exams and therefore procrastinating, what do you think I've been fantasizing about, day dreaming about, with a coy smile hovering around my lips like its some harlequin being written in my head? Not a man. Oh no. I don't think men are as satisfying as the things I was dreaming about (or at least no man I've met so far)
I've been dreaming about comfort food. My famous chocolate chip cookies, the delicious, incredible pasta carbonara I made for myself once, and only once since my parents frown on fatty pastas (living with home is a trial sometimes) nuts and bolts. This really divine burger that I haven't had since the summer. The stupendous pizza I had in the Dominican (I was surprised too). Its all been dancing through my head. I've been telling people about it too. They think I'm weird, or maybe they think the gym is finally getting to me. My sister took the opportunity to lecture me about my bad food choices (whatever miss Coolers and poutine! (ooooooh poutine... I just opened up another can of worms))
Anyways, where I'm REALLY going here is this: do not be ashamed to turn to food in comfort. Make yourself a home cooked meal, have a glass of wine, top it off with a cookie and some milk. That is healthy comfort food. An entire pint of Cherry Garcia, not so much.
Also, this is sort of my one and a half hours at the gym talking. I tried to satiate it with cheese but it's roaring for pasta, cookies, or nuts and bolts.