Cheesy Fries

So I’ve already mentioned that I used to eat things because I couldn’t hear through the static. I couldn’t hear my voice and my body through this wall. Admittedly there are times the static is preferable to the signals.

Let me tell you a little story about Cheesy Fries. Over the last three days I have been a little emotional. Pack a late sister’s birthday, a message from the boy who broke my heart and a perceived comment on my seemingly flailing career into three days and I tend to get that way. And today the cure was going to be cheesy fries. I wanted nothing more than hot melted cheese running over crispy, steaming fries. That was going to make me feel cozy and loved.

My first thought as I put away my logo T and matching hat from my day job was where could I find fries like this. I’ve been eating only high-quality cuisine for so long I didn’t know where to begin. I thought of the basic chains that serve terrible food; TGIFriday topped my list. Trouble is I honestly couldn’t even bring myself to walk into one. I just couldn’t do it.

My second thought was that anyone could dump fries in a fryer and slap cheese on top. My options were endless. So I would go back to my favorite downtown, after-work hangout. Trouble with that? I’d already told the manager about my blog and would be way too embarrassed to make that special request. I blog about healthy living. Shit! Again I just couldn’t do it.

So I spent the next 20 minutes walking around the Loop in Chicago trying to find the perfect place to grab my dirty cure. Oooo Hotel Bar! People there would think I was a tourist and not remember me if they saw me on the street. Well that one was closed for a private party. I so dislike eating in chain restaurants that I decided that was my only choice. The staff wouldn’t know me because I wouldn’t come back and no one I know would bother walking in with all the great local grub around. A ha! Elephant and Castle. They won out. Lucky them after the way I have been talking, eh? I sat at a table near the bar, ordered the house Cab and made my special request with an unapologetic giggle. After all I had put a lot of thought into this. Done.

The steaming pile came out quicker then I could hope for. A sip of my Cab and in I dived. The first fry tasted great! Everything I had dreamed of. I should have stopped there. The rest far missed their mark. They couldn’t possibly have lived up to my expectations. They were going to fix me up. Erase the last few days and put me back to normal. That is quite a load for a plate of potatoes and cheddar to bear. I should have known better. I do know better.

Clearly I have learned one lesson over the years, I didn’t finish my plate. I definitely ate way more than I needed to given their failure to make my day… but I did stop, let my bottom lip droop a little with disappointment and had my server take away the rejects. The Cab, though, may never fail.

Its amazing how much time I wasted, and energy and thought. I could have enjoyed a rejuvenating meal at one my favorite places. The odds are I may relapse again at some point and forget about food's inability to cure my moods. The best I can hope for is that I continue to remember faster then 2/3rds of the way through a plate of Cheesy Fries.

Give and Take

Breakfast: Coffee, Perfect Bagel w/ reduced fat cream cheese and salmon
Lunch: Cheesy Fries
Yoga: One Full Forward Bend

What a day!