Cravings

Sometimes I think I’m pregnant.

….and then I realize that the only way that could happen was in Baby Jesus himself took up residence in my womb.

Here’s the thing. I eat like a pregnant woman. I have some serious cravings. Tonight for dinner I ate mac and cheese…and lemon gelato. The only common theme that links those two together is their color, which is a stretch seeing as how mac and cheese is really more of an orange, not yellow.

These phases last months. Rather than allow my taste buds to enjoy a wide range of tasty treats, I stick to one thing, managing to work it into every recipe. Most recently, it has been mushrooms. Other top runners that have made their way into the lineup of my cuisine are onions and spinach. Put those three together? It’s like striking gold…but in my mouth.

Now, when I’m ordering off a menu I look for a few key ingredients. I don’t care how they come: mixed, mashed, broiled, grilled, charred, chopped, flambéed….I don’t even care. Just bring it. Twenty-seven chunks of frozen cookie dough for dinner? You bet. Add in seven sweet potato fries and a piece of swiss and you have yourself a solid meal. It is no longer unusual for me to have three desserts in one day. Excessive? I jog…it’s fine. When I have to start wearing sweats to work because laying on my bed to button my pants no longer works, I’ll consider a change.

It’s not that I don’t appreciate a good meal. Since graduating my palate has changed drastically. Where Taco Cabana was once considered an acceptable meal, fois gras has now steamrolled ahead to sit atop the summit of my culinary endeavors.

Really it comes down to a lack of effort. I just don’t care. Somehow food, which used to be one of the deciding factors of my life has taken a back seat to deadlines, conference calls and quick trips downtown to the agency. In a matter of months, the simple pleasures of cooking a meal at home has been diluted by the wear and tear of a corporate life. Do I love my job? Absolutely.  Does it zap every ounce of energy I have because it’s tricky and thought-provoking? Most certainly.

Growing up is like taking a ride in Wonka’s glass elevator, red button engaged. As I propel forward toward the unknown I realize there are two options: get straight dominated by the impact, or continue onward and upward to greater things. My twenties are that terrifying moment of anti-gravity, when the upward movement defies gravity and you sit, suspended in equilibrium, scared of breaking the spell that has disembodied you from your youth.

There simply comes a time when your priorities must revolve around your necessities. Though I believe in indulging your youthful side and embarking on several adventures that will leave you falling asleep at your desk on Monday morning as you nurse a sunburn and some broken pride because you lost a bet on who could eat the most fresh Serrano peppers (not to mention some wicked heartburn…), I also believe that we must slowly disengage from the antics of our childhood that left no room for responsibilities and even less for consequences.

My naivety whispers lies as I start my nightly ritual at 10pm, saying a few more hours will not hurt. I swallow back tantrums that lurk beneath the surface when I find myself spending yet another day at the office well past 7pm because my heart longs to be communing with friends.

Life doesn’t take the same path for everyone. As I preheat my baby-sized oven to bake the 3 (okay maybe 7) cookies I have decided will make a great post-gelato dessert, I also prepare my coffee pot for the morning that will be all-to-soon knocking at my door, making my morning run seamlessly (alright, lets get real…if a tornado had a baby with a hurricane…it would resemble my morning).  Each life is like a little oven, taking its own sweet time to preheat, and requiring tweaks here and there in the temperature to get your desired squishy inside, crispy outside cookie consistency.

As more of my friends ruin my life by having adorable proposals and marrying the loves of their life (vomit), I find it easier and easier to sink into a pit of self-pity. Woe is me because I’m single…oh wait, that’s right. My single life is just as awesome as their non-single life. Why do we allow ourselves to compare our life course to those around us? There is no template for this journey. Some of us may make a straight shot for the end, and others may ramble about a bit, getting side tracked by laying in the grass for a nap. Whichever path you choose to take is up to you. For now, my cookie remains half-baked…