MOODY FOODIE BY HEATHER HURST
Life more often than not feels like a never-ending checklist of syllabus assignments and predictable meetings. Even my Netflix time and daily meditation are penciled into the holes in my planner.
Ironically, eating, my only true obligation, is a free for all.
My eating is reactive and spontaneous, and therefore my most creative habit. My habits change from meal to meal, and what worked in the past is not guaranteed to work in the future. When I strive to be present with my eating in each moment, magic happens.
The only way I can plan for lack of planning is to shop like a hoarder. The shelves in my house are spilling over in an apocalypse-like fashion and I act like I live next to Kroger and can therefore afford to pop in ten times in one week for just one thing each time.
I have been known to show up to class with the spinach frittata that almost made me late because my body insisted on a Barefoot Contessa moment instead of the Cheerios that characterized all of yesterday’s meals.
My most nefarious rebellion in my pseudo adult life as a college student is eating half of a cold strawberry pop-tart for breakfast right over the counter and letting the crumbs fall everywhere.
Like any creative endeavor, this anti routine is peppered with failure. A number of “just in case” cheese sticks to go to waste in my backpack side pocket, and there is an almond snack pack that has moved from bag to bag for months without ever finding a home.