Food for Thought, Thoughts for Food

I can't believe how much of our life is spent planning food.

"What do you feel like eating?"

"I'm not really hungry."

"You gonna want to eat later?"

"Probably."

"So we should get something now."

"Nah, we'll get it later."

"Later everything will be closed. Let's get something now."

"Alright, like what?"

"That's what I'm asking you."

And it never ends.

Since we got married I don't think a day has passed that at least one conversation with my husband hasn't ended with the words, "Um, I don't know . . . I guess . . . chicken."

Not one day. Do you understand this? Not one. The word "Chicken" preceded by some unenthusiastic whine of indifference and frequently followed by an even less enthusiastic "Or maybe fish, I-don't-care-it's-up-to-you," is by far the most commonly heard expression in our home. Perhaps second only to, "Aren't you going to answer that?"

Chicken or fish. That's basically what it comes down to.

Sometimes I wish we could just get pills to take the place of meals. Little full-balanced meals in pill form. Then you wouldn't have to decide, you wouldn't have to talk about it. Huge chunks of your life would be freed up.

Though I'm sure in no time that I'd be on the phone going, "What do you feel like tonight--Chicken Pill or Fish Pill.

Here's the thing with decisions. I can make them. I just don't feel sure about them afterward.

A friend of mine said, "Always go with your gut."

Then another said to me, "You should listen to your heart."

So now I have one more choice to make. Do I go with my heart or my gut? I can't decide. I gotta do an entire autopsy. My heart says yes, my gut says no, my colon is iffy--I just don't know who to listen to.

Say we're at breakfast, I'm ordering and the waitperson says, "Do you want toast or biscuit?"

Biscuit. Very easy. Firm, clear cut decision.

She walks away, and immediately I realize I should have had the toast . . . Yup, toast was the way to go. Look at the woman over there, she got the toast, she looks very happy.

"Excuse me, how are you enjoying that toast? Pretty good, huh?"

Great. She got toast. She'll have a better breakfast, she'll have a better day, a better life, she'll go on to make a contribution to society, people will remember this lady for years . . .

Me? I got the friggin' biscuit.

Morons, complete morons.

Men have absolutley no clue. This is my generalized statement for the day. Hell, the week maybe. Jeez.

I don't think anyone but another woman would understand all the trouble we have to go through just to get an acurate reading on our bathroom scale.

1. Gotta pee. (Do you know how much pee weighs?)
2. Gotta be naked. (Clothes add pounds, especially in the winter)
3. If weighing right after the shower, gotta dry the hair. (Wet hair is heavier than dry hair.)
4. Gotta poop. (See #1.)
5. If you don't have to poop, jog in place for a while until it works itself out.

And this is why....I take so long in the bathroom. Don't they know anything.