Last night around 10:30 as I was reading in bed, I suddenly got famished to the point of shakiness despite having a bowl of cereal a couple hours earlier. Not wanting to eat right before sleep, I was torn between ignoring the urge or giving in to it. In the end, I felt much better for having a can of diet Pepsi and half a container of
cottage cheese.
Cottage cheese, of course, is the food God developed specifically to torture women, to make them keen with yearning. Picture it on a plate, lumpy and bland atop a limp lettuce leaf and half a canned peach. Consider the taste and feel of it: wet, bitter little curds. Now compare it to the real thing: a thick, oozing slab of brie, or a dense and silky smear of cream cheese. Cottage cheese is one of our culture's most visible symbols of self-denial; marketed honestly, it would appear in dairy cases with warning labels: THIS SUBSTANCE IS SELF-PUNITIVE; INGEST WITH CAUTION.
~ Caroline Knapp, Appetites: Why Women Want
Bruce returned to work today though he's still not feeling well. I wasn't unsympathetic nor overly sympathetic either, taking a neutral stance. What I really wanted to do most was crank up some Radiohead: You do it to yourself, you do, and that's what really hurts, is you do it to yourseeeeeelf. Instead, I brought it to work.
Things to look forward to this week in chronological order: warm weather, wearing skirts w/out nylons, free lunch just snacks, Scrubs, exercise bike, more reading, meeting the girls at The C&B, yoga class, Schwan's delivery, Survivor, casual attire and early dismissal.