Crappy Food Addict

Farming and growing things appeals to some base instinct for me. But when I am busy, running around the sprawling suburban strip-mall world, I feel guilty when I eat crappy long distance food. Eating nutritionally questionable food prepared by minimum wage workers, served up in a fluorescent homogeneity, gets me feeling bad about my squishy belly. It hangs over my waistband, just enough to make me uneasy. That wad of fat equates to heart risk and a shorter life and every crappy meal is a decision to ignore it. What’s one more installment of Five Guys? To hell with running today, I’m going to eat some Cheetos. That’s the wrong answer and I know it. So why the hell can’t I stop? It has a lot to do with my being a crappy food addict.

I am addicted to sugar, and saturated fat. I am addicted to the weird feeling of relaxed fullness after eating total crap food. It is a physical sensation which differs completely from the lack of sensation I get after eating healthy food. To get a warm feeling from healthy foods, fruits and vegetables, whole grains, nuts and beans, I must have a little bit of patience. But as a wealthy American, patience was never something I was taught about much. For my entire time on earth I have had a lack for nothing. Any food which I desired has always been available to me. These choices have robbed me of gratitude and patience.

I want to go back to farming, but it needs to be sustainable. It should be human scale because quality and size are impossible partners. More on this to come I think...