Miss Alford, and miseating

I don’t know why I’ve remembered this, but today is the birthday of a teacher I fancied at college. Weird thing to know in the first place, much less think about 20 years later, but there we are. I would blame the temperature, but I’m actually feeling better now. Maybe I’ll blame the temperature outside, as it is yet again cold enough to pass for January.
This year has been an absolute tosser, weatherly speaking. Spring lasted about 4 days, and Summer simply hasn’t happened at all. Anyway, I mustn’t dwell on that, or I’ll be suicidal by November.

My taste buds seem to have been affected by last week’s illness, after all. Either that, or my relationship with food is in a state of flux and rebirth. I’ve gone off coffee completely, I keep getting the urge to buy licorice, and if I don’t cut down my intake of Sour Cream and Onion Pringles I’ll have dangerously high blood pressure by Christmas. I might blame the other people I work with. Apart from Samantha, who is one of the retail managers, the team seems to be comprised of snack-happy, indulgent, chocaholic grazers. There are only 3 of us who don’t smoke. It’s a pretty unhealthy workforce and I find myself playing along and succumbing to the temptation of bad choices. It might also be a bit of a hangover from the supermarket garage days, when I had a ready supply of unhealthy options and a quiet office in which I could munch them. I may have accidentally trained my brain to associate management with gluttony.
Oh, well. At least I’m not buying heroin, and the eating helps to ease the pain of the climate.

RC 18-8-21