Over the years though, there have been times, and not just short ones, when I just did not feel like cooking, times when I didn't even like my kitchen. Those times felt odd but not so foreign as to confuse me. Once, several years ago, I was so out of sinc with food, cooking, and my health that I subscribed to Nutrisystems and had them send me yucky pre-packaged, processed food for several months. I simply didn't want to cook and didn't want to think about food. It was an odd time in my life, the only time I have ever lived alone, so maybe that had something to do with my extreme disassociation with cooking and health. I'm still not sure.
|sometimes plain ol' chicken drumsticks just sound good|
I suppose on a very basic level I should be happy that giving into even one of these (occasional) urges would make me painfully ill for days. I'm much better off whining because I will never again eat a Baby Ruth candy bar than putting it in my body and hating myself for it.