Ever have one of those times when you wonder "Just who's driving?"
I had one of those the other night. I was driving home from a gathering in Austin and found myself obsessed about getting some fast food french fries. It's true that maybe a few times a year I eat french fries at a restaurant but I never eat fast food. I have to be pretty desperate before grabbing anything at the drive through... It does happen but only in the rarest of odd moments of starvation and crankiness.
So the fact that I suddenly had to have french fries was curious to me. I decided to get them. Well, the truth is that I'm not sure what happened but I found myself at a Wendy's drive through ordering not a small but a large order of fries. Hmmmm. At that point, I can say that I decided to get them; I chose to drive to the window, pay, grab my fries and go, even though I debated screeching out of there in disgust.
I admit that I ate the whole lot of them and I enjoyed them too - every single one. A part of me felt incredibly nurtured and nourished by those greasy, salty fries. She relaxed all the way home. She groaned over their crispy hotness. She smiled. She felt relieved and satisfied...
"Who is that??" I wondered what part of me was so fulfilled by those icky french fries. I realized that I do my best to eat healthy, even if it means not eating at all. What happens next is that a part of me feels neglected when I don't eat enough, and it is she who wants nurturing then... not with healthy food but with comfort food.

