I love food, and I guess I have a weird relationship with it. I have memories of arriving home from school and swallowing a glass of Coke in record time, only slowing when my throat would begin to burn and my eyes watered. I’ve since cut sugar from my drinks, so unless it’s accompanied by a spiced rum, my Coke is Zero.
Still, even today, knowing that there is an open bar of chocolate in the fridge gnaws at me every time I remember about it. When I eat fries, I eat them two or three at a time and when I dip them into sauce I dip them. I haven’t bought a jar of Nutella in who knows how long because I don’t know if I can trust myself not to sneak a spoonful every time I walk past the kitchen. I’d like to think I wouldn’t, but why risk such a delicious temptation?
Just after my 30th birthday I began following the Slow Carb diet as a way to lose weight. It was extremely effective and I lost a heap of weight, to the point where a few people told me I should stop. I did stop and, in fact, put a little bit of it back on. I can’t quite put my finger on why, but this year I have found it incredibly difficult to stick to the diet.
I know that I have a tendency to eat crap when I am stressed or anxious, and I have found myself in the latter position quite a bit of late. I first realised that I did this when I was still living with my parents. I was going through a difficult time and I just felt incredibly hungry all of the time. I managed to overcome this for a whole year, so I’m not sure what changed this year.
We were on a day trip from Florence in December of 2010 when I took this photo. I recount:
“Bob says that I always find someone in tour groups who annoys me and although I categorically deny these accusations there was a family in particular who gave me the shits from the moment the tour guides arrived. The mother was a pain in the arse who would push her son to the front of every queue so that they were first / got the best seats / did everything before anybody else. One of the girls in the family was sick and was coughing and sneezing all over the place. The last thing anyone wants on their holidays is to get sick, so one would expect a sick traveler to give people the courtesy of at least covering themselves to diminish the spread if their germs.
“The bus departed and our tour leader showered us with a multitude of interesting facts about cities on the way to Pisa including the birthplace of Pinocchio, Galileo and so on.
“The bus dropped us off in a giant parking lot and a short walk through Pisa began. I guess I was naive enough not to think about Pisa as a city in itself but more as the place that housed the leaning tower. At the entrance to Old Pisa we were introduced to our tour guide who was quite charming and full of interesting stories, unfortunately none of which I can remember. She told us the story of the tower’s lean, and that, in fact, all the buildings in Pisa leaned (which actually makes photographing it a nightmare).
“After a short tour including the inside of the cathedral, we began to take cheesy but necessary photos with the leaning tower. We also thought it necessary to try the pizza in Pisa and shared a simple cheese pizza before racing back to the bus with a quick detour to a souvenir stand. We were the last group to arrive, and of course the annoying family had taken Bob and my seat, so we were forced to find another.
“We slept most of the way back.
In response to The Daily Post’s weekly photo challenge: “Treat.”