February 7, 2010

Comfort food takes many forms.

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“Comfort food” comes in many forms.  My daily wallow is in helping Elliott do his one job of getting  the paper from the front porch and then I get to sit with a cup of coffee and read it.  If I’m feeling peppy and chilly, I’ll make a fire too.

The day starts well when that happens, and most days that’s the way it works.  It’s one of the wonders of working at home.  I may be up until late working, but the trade-off is the morning dog-paper-coffee ritual.

What other comfort food rituals do I have?  Those things that make me feel good regardless of what else is going on in life?

Hiking with Ron and Elliott.

Lime crack and fresh salsa.  I don’t know what the chips are actually called, but they’re coated in this addicting lime-ish flavored dust that makes the corners of your mouth crack.

The end of a run with Ron and Elliott.  Who am I kidding – the reason I used to run was to finish.

Twilight Zone or Ghost Hunters t.v. marathons.  Or a full Saturday of those terrible, made-for-SyFy t.v. thriller movies.  I don’t actually watch them all day, but having them on in the background while I do other stuff is warm and fuzzy.

Pizza.  Frozen, Home Run Inn pizza.  Coated with fresh oregano from my herb garden.

Squirreling up in an evening with Ron and watching 3 or 4 back-to-back episodes of Dexter, Deadwood or whatever series we’re working through.

BBQ potato chips.

Checking my email.  Actually, this is more of an obsessive-compulsive behaviour than comforting.

Steamed broccoli with olive oil, salt and fresh cracked pepper.

Mystery novels.

Why am I mulling this?  Because there are times when I need a little comfort.  Times when I’m particularly depleted and need to regenerate.  When I need it most, it’s often hardest to figure out what to do.  Without thought, I’ll plug my way through the day and go to bed as exhausted as I was when I got up.

I believe in putting it all out there.  It’s a glorious thing.  I know in my head that being tired is not a punishment.  It’s a natural result of extraordinary effort.  Being tired is also not a self-indulgent sign of moral deficiency.

I confess, I struggle against feeling like it’s a sign of moral deficiency.

What can I do today that will help me regenerate?  How can I approach the day without feeling like a total failure for being tired?

Let me mull on this.  Do I have any broccoli?

Significantly,

Susan Scot Fry

Update…

Apparently, my most effective comfort food is company.  Specifically, I need Ron to not be working in order for me to also take some time off.  If he’s dervishing around and I’m trying to have a lie-in, I’m on edge.  There’s a part of my brain trying to figure out what I should be doing too.  Hmmm…

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