still wondering: thoughtful insights & insightful thoughts

One thing that can certainly test our limits on when to behave tactfully is, kind of obviously, necessity. More specifically, our need to eat dictates how we feel and how we act accordingly. When we’re hungry, we’re cranky. When we’re full, we’re at least not hungry and usually not cranky. When I’m hungry most rules of social grace go directly out of the window (and then somehow come back inside once I’m fed, I suppose?)

This morning I had the pleasure of driving and accompanying my roommate to a doctor’s appointment/procedure. The policy of the office is to have the driver stay for the length of the visit, which not unlike some kind of bizarre house arrest. The require a driver because patients are way too doped up afterwards to drive themselves home (and this is an understatement for how out of it my roommate really was – the wonders/my envy of those on painkillers are fascinating enough for a post of it’s own – but I digress.)

Enter utter disregard: It was my intention the night before to go to sleep a little earlier, and naturally, I opted for a night of hard drinking instead. I woke up, and like most mornings, found myself at the mercy of a hangover and hunger pains bordering on starvation (best described as an emptiness in the bottom of my stomach which could just have easily been confused for feelings of general disenfranchisement on behalf of Sarah Palin, or what one might imagine that would feel like.) I dropped my roommate off, asked for permission from the receptionist to step out and grab a bite to eat and returned moments later with a small picnic. My roommate made quick work of reminding me that I was eating breakfast in a room full of people whom at least 50% of hadn’t tasted solid food in over 24 hours, and 100% of whom were eyeing me down as if I had started cooking a spoonful of crack atop a burning bible (ridiculous to imagine, I know, since it wasn’t even noon yet.) Fuck it – for all of the reasons they may have felt miserable for not eating, and even worse for watching me stuff my face with a bagel, the bottom line is that I was hungry and come hell or high water nothing would stand in my way of eating.

Initially, it hadn’t occurred to me that I was doing anything unacceptable, but I took my cue when I felt welcomed as warmly as if I’d stumbled into a Weight Watchers meeting with a birthday cake in tow. On my way home I considered stumbling into a Weight Watchers meeting with a birthday cake, but then I realized that (a) it wasn’t my birthday and (b) fat people love cake, and the irony might be lost (and, as one might infer, one thing I will not risk is gambling with the integrity of an ironic and potentially delicious situation.)