I’m in Chicago again, back like a pingpong ball. I was just here 2 weeks ago for fun but this time it’s business for a packed three days. One of my downfalls when I travel is my complete breakdown when it comes to food in the airport. It happens every time; I know it and try to plan for and around it, but I can’t take things like yogurt and water with me through security anymore and it’s messed me up. Not that I ever was in all that much control in the first place, mind you.
Today I ate my Vive cereal with a banana and milk before I left home but when I got to the airport, I ended up buying and eating a Boston Kreme donut even though I wasn’t all that hungry. I didn’t want an apple or a bottle of water, I wanted a donut and I bought one. Well, I did get water, too. I also bought a bag of M&Ms that I ate on the plane along with a little teeny bag of pretzels that basically served as my lunch.
I like to travel but I’ve gotten so I hate flying. It’s hard for everyone now that the planes are completely full all the time. When you factor in the major discomfort of being squished into a seat that’s too small for your size, plus the humiliation of having to ask for a seatbelt extension, and then spend the flight trying not to crowd the person sitting in the seat next to you, it’s not pleasant even when things go well. I responded to my stress by getting a 3-point McDonald’s ice cream cone when I got to O’Hare. There is no logic in this; it was comfort food, pure and simple. And my reward for having survived the flight. I wish I was past the place where this was true but I’m not.
Dinner was Hungarian goulash with bread. I have absolutely no idea how to count it. We ate out in a little Bohemian restaurant in a strip mall that looked like a hole in the wall that had terrible service but very tasty food. Somehow I thought goulash had noodles in it and this didn’t but it was still good and I ate all of it.
It was a terribly lopsided day foodwise. Too many carbs and sweets, not enough protein, fruits or veggies. Not as much water as I usually drink. The travel day, especially when I’m off to a hotel, is difficult. Tomorrow will be better – right?
Random Thoughts of a Disordered Mind 