Addiction

I'm thinking about our food and liquid addictions right now ... as I rock the gluten bloat and caffeine high. I have allowed myself to indulge in both, damn the consequences, during this visit to my parents' humble abode. In the short term, anyway. I have grand designs to take up my P90X challenge once I return home. This challenge eschews such dietetic frivolity and blase attitudes, naturally. More on that when I put it in motion.

So gluten-free is very in vogue in the States. There are many adults out there who have low-carbed it for a while now, post-Atkins. People report feeling "cleaner" and "lighter." And, if we can agree to get a bit intimate, "less gassy." Your carb cravings disappear, too. How do they do that, those carbs? Well, I suppose it's not an actual mystery. What are we but mere bags of chemicals responding to stimuli. Put chemicals in and watch how the body reacts.

My friend, Anita, received an admonishment from a friend whose wedding she was going to be in: If you stop eating bread, you can get rid of some of this back fat. This advice was given as the woman poked Anita's back. Nice. Oh, and I can use real names because Anita doesn't follow this blog. Do you, Anita? Nope! Too busy bartending and making jewelry to follow my little blog!

So carbohydrates get themselves on a nice little chemical cycle in our bodies - driving us to crave and eat more of them. The wee devils. Oh, you simple simple sugars. How dare you?

And caffeine. I love black tea, and that was all I drank in the morning until recently. Darn you, Peet's delicious double shots! Dad goes on his morning run, and I cave again and again and again. I know I'm an addict when I am in a piss-poor mood before my latte hits the veins. I wanted to rip my sister's head off this morning for putting the "wrong" diaper on Sam. There are three diapers to choose from. I told her last night that the ones with the elephants are the "night" diapers. Why the hell would she put a night diaper on in the morning? How could she not remember this conversation, and then act so cool when I told her that there were three diapers and, very simply, which one did she put on because I brought "just enough" night diapers and I want to know just how upset I should be at this very moment. Is the coffee here yet?

Coffee caffeine causes me a beautiful high and an ugly crash. I feel on top of the world - witty, brilliant, inspired, bedazzling - when I am indulging. And then. I am not the most patient person, and the fall from this drug, in me, is nothing to be trifled with. "Short-tempered" and "impatient" are euphemistic, at best, when describing the gorgon I become around 3pm.

So tomorrow I will try again. Try to refuse my father's Peet's run: No, Dad, thank you. I will just have tea here in the house. English breakfast with a wee bit of honey and a splash of milk. I will dip a cookie in it, in fact. Then I will ignore the craving that drives me to grab another cookie. And then Irene will come over and we will make bread! I'm not even kidding. I'll take photos.