Operation Eat Right
I am crossing things off my life list like you wouldn’t believe bitches!
Last week, I met with a nutritionist and shared all my dirty little secrets about my crappy diet. Talk about embarrassing.
I’ve always had issues with food. I have food sensitivities, can’t eat wheat blah blah blah. But mainly, I’m just a picky eater. Sure, one would think you’d grow out of that by the time you’re 27, but apparently not. As such, I find grocery shopping intensely intimidating. I have mini panic attacks in the supermarket. I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to be buying, so I just buy all the wrong stuff to get the process over with – and then I don’t even eat it. Yeah, like I said, “issues.”
So, I met with a nutritionist. She asked what I wanted to focus on and I told her, in a nutshell, I don’t know how to feed myself, I’m very intimidated by the supermarket and don’t know what to buy. She nodded and had a very understanding look on her face. “When I go to other peoples houses for dinner,” I tell her, “they have shit in their cupboards. What is that shit and am I supposed to have it?” The look on her face went from understanding, to disbelief.
Nonetheless, she waded through my pool of stupidity and got to work on a list of ‘staples’ that I should always have in my house, some of which, I couldn’t pronounce. Yes, I will be living in the healthy/natural foods/organic/bird food section of the grocery store for quite some time.
Armed with my new, unpronouncable shopping list, I made my way down to the grocery store, making a solemn vow to myself to not leave until I’d done the job. (On the way there, I got distracted by a great little antiques market – that kind of shopping seemed much more exciting than hunting down nutrients for my body. But as a testament to how serious I am about this ‘get healthy’ thing, I managed to pass up a great deal on a vintage Christian Dior bag, in favour of the pursuit for green veggie things and something called ‘fruit’.)
I got to the supermarket and got that familiar panicky feeling. I got a cart (yes, a cart! And I was actually going to put things in it!) and started my long, arduous mission. Part of what makes it so intimidating for me is that everyone else in there looks like they know what they’re doing – I just feel like a big phony because I’m winging it (and of course, because I’m an adult who eats like a frikkin’ toddler). But this time, I had my list. It took me one hour to get through it (no, I’m not shopping for a family of twelve, just myself), but I came out alive.
I’m sure you’re reading this somewhat befuddled as to why I consider a trip to the supermarket such an achievement. I don’t want to have to fill you in on the 27 years of my existence, but trust me, I just overcame a huge hurdle in my life.
Now, I have shit in my cupboards, just like a regular person. I just need to figure out what the hell to do with it.
