Hoo boy. It’s been a…week, folks.
I’m currently suspended in a mental fog fueled by some sort of wicked GI tract bug and sleep deprivation, and THINGS are piling up!
THINGS is nothing in particular and everything at once; THINGS is all the end-of-the-year homework we are being assigned (aahhh remember my “culminating project of sorts”? Well, now we have to give a presentation about that..!). THINGS is also the fact that I’m leaving behind my safe little lovely private school next year for THE REAL WORLD, which equates to a school 12 times the size I’m used to—accompanied by loads of paperwork for getting into classes, a bunch of new graduation requirements to take into account, YEARS worth of classes to plan out in a single night when you still need to study for your Geometry test as well…
THINGS is the video and audio greetings I need to script up and create in order to accept my Scholastic Art and Writing Award. (Awesome award; too bad it comes with extra fries stress.) (Pardon the grammar of that first sentence in this paragraph, and my parenthetical overkill.)
So, um, yeah, there’s been some emotional eating. The above has been my breakfast for two days this week—a slice of chocolate cake, extra shame on top, gobbled down in the bathroom at 5 AM while I fix up my face. More recently it has been accompanied by frozen yogurt, straight out of the carton (galdangit whydowe keep that stuff in the freezer)…any sugar that’s quick and accessible, basically.
I’m not particularly fond of the abrupt transition between vacation life and real life. This past week has been spent desperately trying to figure out how my life works again, while still trying to maintain grades and a social life and steady work on my writing and my waistline. In short, it’s just been stressful. I know I really shouldn’t be complaining. Adults are always telling me how much harder everything gets when you get to that age. Adults are liars Adults seem to have simply forgotten how hard it is to juggle raging floods of estrogen on top of attending an, ahem, “academically rigorous” private school and trying to keep up your side projects that you pour your heart into, like your food blog. (Every teenager has/had one of those, right?)
So, let’s see, for me it seems that stress=mass amounts of sugar and comfort food. (Would you believe that in ADDITION to 5 AM cake and froyo on Friday, I had LOTS of lasagna for lunch? I…just couldn’t eat a salad or a wrap…) This is surely the diagnosis for chocoholism.
At the local Choc-Anon chapter: “Hello…well, my name is The Girl in the Orange, and, well, I have a problem…I mean, it’s just gotten out of hand…I have dreams where I have to take another exam and then someone takes away my chocolate and then I push them into a huge vat of it…I never meant any harm!”
(You know you’re jealous of my Paint skills. Especially since the above took me ~half an hour to figure out…)
Don’t worry about me, please; I’m no stranger to stress and nothing terribly emotionally taxing is going on in my life; just a bunch of stuff that unhappily coincided during the week after a glorious stress-free playa vacation. I am also no stranger to emotional eating and am optimistic that in time it will work its way gone and I’ll be back to crunchin’ on crudites once more. I’m just making an effort to make sure my blog covers not only the happy-happy joy-joy orange side of life (though I try to focus on that) but also provides a little window into the things that we all struggle with. Bloggers admitting to vulnerability is a powerful thing, and one not always easy to accomplish.
Living a “healthy” life, I’ve learned, isn’t about eating “healthy” all the time—it’s about balance. Sometimes the odds get skewed a little to the dark side of things…by dark side, we’re talking, like, 72%, at least.
Last week was definitely skewed. But it’s done (too bad the workload hasn’t just poofed out of existence) and all I can do now is work on getting back on track.
I hope someone else can relate to this, and that 5 AM cake (or the non-food equivalent) happens to all of us sometimes. And that’s okay.