This week’s gratitude is brought to you by Emily, divined during a commercial break whilst on the living room couch this evening:
“When I took Charlie out for a walk earlier, I was thinking (as I have many times before) about how often I see the drive-thru line full, at the Taco Bell at the end of our road.
And then I just have to think, ‘If nothing else, today, I’m grateful that’s not me.’ Y’know? Because our lives don’t have to be there. And they’re not. If nothing else, today I did not wait in line for Taco Bell drive thru.”
It’s a simple profundity: today, I have my life put together enough that I can afford, financially and mentally, to provide myself better nourishment than dubious fast “food.”
Let me be clear, lest I lose sight of you all from atop my ivory tower: I am in no way a picture of exemplary health or a pillar of purest nutrition. But when I was Out Drinking, I had little (read: no) regard for my dietary intake. I loved red meat, cheese, salt (still do), and was perfectly happy setting them & their likenesses as the base of own little ‘Food Pyramid,’ with a vodka cement to lock them into place. There were times when getting Taco Bell drive thru would have been the highlight of my day and…good god that is a sad sentence to type. I said it aloud in jest to Emily when we were talking before, but wow that’s awful.
As a drunk/depressive/indebted college student, fast food meals were a splurge; a treat. Sunday hangovers were combated with the worst kinds of grease and sodium. There was almost a ritualism to the 3 nights of binging that started on Thursday, and ended Sunday afternoon with a feast of hot, processed garbage. Golden Calf…or Golden Arches? I knew no shame.
While my kitchen game still needs a major retooling, the reality is I’m paying much better attention to what I do or do not actively consume these days. This comes from that degree of stability in my life that I have spoken of previously…and is further amplified by living in an area where slobbish behavior is grossly uncouth. Life in the tri-state region means competing with some of the nation’s trendiest, and fast food bloggers they are not. It’s no secret that giant corporate take-out chains are generally pretty terrible for both you and for the people who are employed by them, but gentrification makes it painfully obvious.
Anyway, socioeconomic dissertations aside, I am grateful that today I have bothered to reach a little higher than the local drive thru. It’s kind of a strange gratitude, but as I said before: simple profundity. We’ve come a long way, baby.