Food, Desire, and Intuition

Sometimes I see food like war. Since I’ve never been at war, I can only imagine what it’s like, but I notice similarities in my own life. Let me start with desire. I use my intuition with romantic desire, but I also use it in my desire for food. In a restaurant, it helps me decide what will make my stomach feel the best, and what seems the freshest.

Because I’m thin, some people assume I don’t have overwhelming food cravings. Let me tell you, my cheese drawer calls my name all day long. I don’t use ice because then I’ll see the chocolate and vanilla ice cream that I pretend isn’t in my freezer.

I make a lot of promises when it comes to desire. Later you can have it, I say to myself. Gluten free crackers holler for a homemade dip. Because gluten wreaks havoc on me, I eat it sparingly or I’ll get what my dad called heartburn. It’s like Pavlov’s dog, with the pup that salivates when the food bell rings. Pavlov even called the dogs' anticipatory salivation "psychic secretion.”

My dictionary says intuition is direct perception of truth. I know for a fact that I am at war with food. I want it, I fight for it, I shop for it, I slay it, I regret the emotions that get out of hand when I eat too much or too often.

It’s lucky for me that I love to read more than I love to eat. That’s another trick I play. I replace my overwhelming desire for lots of food with other things I like more, like a movie or conversation with a friend.

As in war, I feel a satisfaction when I win my battle with food, even though it’s a gratification that’s never fully realized. But anyway, I gotta go. Time for a root beer float.