Happy Wednesday, Unless You’re Reading This Not-On-Wednesday
I mistakenly ate at a buffet when I was only ambiguously hungry. Ambiguous hunger (not a medical term, but it sounds legit) is that general biological hunger you feel when your body tells you to eat when you don’t otherwise feel like eating. That’s unlike the specific hunger you feel when you want a particular something.
It’s the best feeling in the world when the two intersect and you’re able to have what you want. Today? Not so, for me. Too much of a good thing turns out to be a really bad thing.
A buffet might be the worst choice when you’re only ambiguously hungry. There are just too many options when you’re already indecisive. It’s like being that person with a closet full of clothes “but nothing to wear.” I don’t have that problem. Instead, I had issues seeing all of that food without wanting any of it, or having any clue where to start pretending. I was not mentally prepared for the smorgasbord of options. It was a classic case of analysis paralysis: so many options that I was too overwhelmed to choose anything. By the time I did, I took so long making it that I made a bad decision.
>Since I didn’t want anything, any decision would have been a “bad” one. On the list of things I didn’t want, I must’ve chosen whatever was in the bottom third, like when people keep a bad American Idol contestant on the show just because.
As I ate it, I thought to myself, I don’t really want this; I did it, though, because my body said I needed to eat, and I thought it could be trusted.
When you’re sort-of hungry like that but not really in the mood to eat, how often do you pick something healthy, by default? Almost never. I see why McDonald’s is so popular: “Oh, well… I guess I want a greasy burger and salty fries, and a high-fructose syrup drink, but not a small one, because if I’m going to force myself to eat anything, it’ll be high-calorie and unsatisfying. Everything on the guilty-conscience checklist.”
So, that was me sitting there, thinking one forkful at a time about how much I’d regret it later, especially when I wasn’t even excited to be eating it. Later on, I will at least revel in my bad decision-making, like a boss an adult. Bring on the happy hour drinks.