Why I Do Moderation

Why I Do Moderation

Because I don’t want to do abstinence.

If the choice is some potato chips or no potato chips, I prefer some.

Of course, I have habits and vices that get over indulged. I am thinking of you coffee! When the window between those times narrows, I know I have to dial it back. Not because I am a good and disciplined person but because I fear real discipline. I should probably quite caffeine for a few days but how about I just go back to two cups a day instead of four?

Moderation is a strategy of having one’s cake and getting to eat a few bites as well.

This only works when you aren’t battling true addiction. There is one substance I am totally prostrate to, Pepperidge Farm Goldfish crackers. Once the bag is open, I have to eat it all, as quickly as possible. This is going to get gross for a second so skip to the next paragraph if you want to avoid a visceral description of eating. I don’t even swallow fully before more goldfish go in. Apparently, I want the crunch and the bolus together. Yuck! I feel all that cheesy mass gathering behind my molars and yet I don’t clear it, I just keep inserting the crunch. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

It’s hard to say if what is happening is enjoyment. It’s almost like I want it to end more than I want anything else and ending is not stopping but just getting the stuff gone.

It’s so bizarre to me because I don’t have this with anything else. OK, one other thing. Pringles. I guess I really like salty/crunchy. But I can and do make a can of Pringles last two days. Otherwise I’m okay. We always have an opened bag of corn chips and though I sometimes eat a regrettable amount, I do stop. I don’t require the absence of the chip to end the session. Who knows why some things are irresistible but those things have to be eliminated. I just can’t have Goldfish. I don’t buy them. It’s that simple.

I don’t care about giving up Goldfish. They mean nothing to me. I do care about coffee. I really don’t want to give it up. I think moderation is a good strategy if it can be achieved.

Sock Party

Sock Party

I feel like I’ve developed a reputation around the house for being critical so I’m conscientiously trying to be more tolerate or at least keep my trap shut. Then I stumble across this tableau.

Does anyone have a suggestion for how to handle this uncritically? Is there a new standard I am unaware of where socks and dirty cake knives get to co-mingle in the kitchen and everyone’s cool with it? My husband’s defense was; those socks just came out of the dryer, meaning it’s okay because they didn’t just come off his feet. Good point. That is a plus.

I think what happened is, he was on his way to putting them on when suddenly seduced by cake availability. I guess I can’t fault him for that. The cake is really good.