Imagining Myself as a Yeast

I’m not sure if I should be happy / proud of myself that I skip the yummy stuff, and ordered a lonely veggie salad. I always look at “health conscious” eaters as boring as a dead grass. I mean what’s the fun of chewing on leaves. Counting hair strands appears to be more exciting.

Let me clarify that I’m NOT aiming to be a pure vegan. They would actually say meat is good, but strive to get the organic meat. The internal organs of animals are actually rich in nutrients that are good for us. It’s the feeds and injections and genetic mutations implemented on the animals that are not that good for us. That’s why some people would go for pure vegan to skip the toxic from the meat. (Fish is another story.)

One of the main things that health / food books / articles, I read, are against is SUGAR, refined sugar. It’s one of the things that causes inflammation (they would say that diseases like hypertension, diabetes, etc are inflammation). So my aim is to skip refined sugar. 

Anyhoo, last week, Mark and I went to Figaro. We’re not hungry but we just went there to have that quick “together” moment (yaah, corny). We do always see each other, but it’s different when it’s just the 2 of us, that thing you know, which comes far in between.

It took me a few minutes to say my order as the fraps and iced coffees and muffins are calling me. But I closed my eyes, and think of myself as a yeast. Yeast is an ingredient in bread, which made it grow. Sugar feeds yeast, which makes the bread “grow”. Salt kills yeast. So every time an urge for me to overindulge on sweets, I would imagine myself as a yeast, and no; I don’t want my insides to grow much bigger. Sometimes it helps.

Last week at figaro somehow meant big deal to me. As it’s the 1st time that my “yeast imagination” really worked. I felt a bit victorious over myself, that finally I was gaining some control over my sugar-whore self.

But then a part of me was also mourning. As they say food lovers are the best people to be around. Ownose, I no longer have any chance on being cool. Well, I’m still a food lover, almost-real food lover.