Two Roast Potatoes
A ridiculous but genuine example of wanting food and choosing not to eat it anyway.
Another Sunday dinner produced an even more ridiculous example.
I had to resist eating two roast potatoes.
Two.
They were right there.
They looked fantastic.
I wanted them.
But I was full.
So I didn’t eat them.
This isn’t some heroic tale of discipline.
It’s two fucking roast potatoes.
But for me, the interesting thing is that I actually had to make the decision.
I had to recognise:
I want these.
and then:
I don’t need these.
That’s a new distinction for me.
Fortunately, the potatoes weren’t wasted.
We have two Rottweilers.
My loss is their win.
Sunday is their official leftover acquisition day.