I think I need some rehab. My obsession with all things food is just surmounting all others. I may be in need of rehab.
I’ve come to realize that perhaps… 90% of the time I am preoccupied with thoughts of food. Reading, thinking, making, eating, or writing about it.
Its starting to scare me.
I find that almost all of my podcasts (which I devote a large amount of time to since there’s a decent commute to school) relate to food. With the exception of Jillian Michaels’ podcast, but its because she’s freaking amazing (but that’s beside this point).
I’m starting to question whether this is healthy or not.
Its not like I’ve developed an eating disorder. I know that much. However, could I have developed a food disorder… of the mind? Is it sane for one person to be so consumed – mentally – with one subject? With food?
The sad thing is, that with this realization, comes another.
I don’t want to change.
I’m happy with this incredible devotion to this subject. It makes me happy. Aspects of food make me happy.
The notion that eating together bonds people, makes me happy. Feeding people good food that I poured my emotions into making, makes me happy. Selfishly, having people tell me how much they enjoy the food that I made, makes me happy. Hearing people’s astonishment with a new discovery of a food/dish/ingredient, makes me happy. Stumbling upon a new recipe that tantalizes my mental tastebuds, makes me happy. Listening to people fall into heated debates about the validity of a dish as either a soup or a stew, makes my heart sing.
I’m absolutely and irrevocably in love with food.
That’s why it’s always on my mind.
And I wouldn’t have it any. other. way.
The Eleventh 