For the past month I could never seem to be satisfied.
I mean, I could never seem to be full. I could cook the most amazing dinner - of course, this is contentious, because I am not even trying to be the "best" cook, but rather, just make minor miracles when cooking the stuff of daily meals - and then I'd realize that I still want to eat. And it's not just a case of me being peckish: this happens the moment I decide I'm done with dinner.
Is my blood sugar low? I never thought I'd have that problem. I'm constantly reminded that diabetes runs in the family - my late grandfather on my mom's side apparently had it, and there's this thing about it skipping a generation, or something, so, yes, you're constantly reminded. Don't eat too much sweets, or sweet things for that matter. Also, since I'm now a hypertensive I get regular blood tests and I get to see my sugar levels. They're almost always normal.
Is it the stress? That should be the answer. I mean, between limbo and work - and the constant micromanagement and the never-ceasing demands for you to step up because they are too lazy to do so - it really should be the answer. In this case, I'm afraid there's more to come. Maybe I will just be constantly hungry, getting whatever I can get from the cupboards and just munching constantly. I wish the answer lies in cooking even better meals, but even that requires time and energy I don't think I am entitled to have. (Why am I even writing this?) Instead, it's all manifesting in daily iced coffee runs. It was supposed to be a twice-weekly thing, a treat, but now, we're both getting them delivered just hours after making our own in the morning.
The other catch, of course, is that whatever course I take costs money I don't even have.
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