Eating Numbers

Anyone remember when life was simpler? 

Maybe during childhood, at least for a while, we got the taste of pure, simple, life.  A time when playing was the only thing on the agenda.  A time when getting up meant rolling out of bed and jumping into play clothes before heading out for a day of adventures of the imagination.

A time when I ate food.....
not numbers.

I was actually taken to my knees today, when it hit me.  The realization that I no longer see food as food.  I see it as a number.

I no longer enjoy meals, at least not until I've calculated "the number."
Snacks, treats, Starbucks, everything is a number, not a treat.

Tonight, I was sort of enjoying a favorite seasonal specialty from Trader Joes.  Sort of, because after I ate through my allotted "number" for the meal, I kept eating.  And at some point, I realized that I wasn't enjoying the treat anymore.  I was instead trying to get to a bigger number.

See, I've been slipping in and out of goal lately.  Some days I easily meet my daily intake goal (the number that drives my day) and others, I struggle.  Today was one of those struggle days, so I was determined to find a way to get the number to a more respectable place.

So I ate.  I ate what used to taste good.  I ate what used to be a favorite treat.  But tonight, it became just a number.

Just a number.
That's what food has become to me.  The thing that is supposed to nourish me, feed my body, my brain........ it's been relegated to a simply complicated number.

At least, I suppose, while food is a number, I'm fighting myself to keep the number healthy.