Bus Ride Writings - The Problem with Food

She wasn’t sure when food had become the highlight of her day. She had never been a great foodie and had until recently eaten more out of necessity than anything else. But at some point this had shifted. Now it was what she thought about most of the time, what to have for lunch today, what to cook for dinner.

Breakfasts were always the same as was always running slightly late for work. But once at work and an hour or so in when she stopped to snack on the fruit she had brought with her, her thoughts turned to lunch. She was hardly ever organized enough to prearrange it and more often than not was running too late to stop off at the sandwich bar at the corner of the street despite them being affordable and a somewhat healthy option. So it was always, which café, hot or cold, take away, eat in.

For dinner it was, are there any left overs, what is the quickest to make, shall I just have toast again as I had a large lunch. And so these thoughts had come to consume her idol hours.

She was putting on weight too as it had now turned to what extra snack or treat shall I have after work or after dinner. Her clothes were beginning to fit a bit more snugly. She knew that she needed to eat less and exercise more, but she was always too busy or too tired and it was hard to go back to how it was before, to switch off the thoughts, the cravings.

She sighed as she looked in the mirror, soon her favourite dress would not fit her.

Once it had gotten to the stage where it appeared that she might need a whole new wardrobe she decided enough was enough. But it was hard going, fighting against the urge to snack, trying to stay motivated to do a daily walk when work or lack of sleep got in the way.

But she pushed on, through the pain and sweat and self-loathing. She started doing sit-ups and crunches in the evening and slowly but surely clothes began to loosen again. Till one day she fit back into her favourite dress, only snacked on treats n the weekend, and got into the habit of preparing her lunch the night before.

Her life was her own once more.


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