Happy Fun Cog

I ate a bowl of tasty vegetarian fare, a (supposedly) Hungarian recipe of wheat bulgher and eggplant, about 4 hours ago. My stomach is now rumbling for more. Traditionally, I react to this kind of situation with a snack, usually something like cereal or toast. My recent focus on, and success with, losing weight has made it easier for me to resist the urge to eat.

Resisting the urge to feed this late-night hunger is similar to resisting the urge to distract myself, with alcohol or daydreams, from thinking about another Saturday night alone and how it makes me feel. It makes me feel bad, for the record, even though the idea of Saturday night as a necessarily social occasion is a flawed one. In the past, not being aware of this hunger has led me to try to deal with it impulsively, namely by going out to bars and drinking because a) that meant I was around people and b) that meant I was drinking, which made it easier to be around people.

There is this hunger, this hunger in my stomach and in my head. But hunger should not be avoided. It can be healthy. It hurts, yes, but thoughtlessly seeking to sate the hunger hurts even more; it's just a matter of how aware you are of the pain. I'm not saying that I should be satisfied with being alone on a Saturday night. Rather, I'm saying that hunger for something can be a point of contemplation.* My physical hunger, if I choose not to sate it tonight, can teach me that being healthy is not necessarily making yourself feel good all the time. My mental and emotional hunger, which I cannot sate tonight, can teach me that I have to appreciate those times when I am not hungry and live my life in such a way where I don't need to go hungry every goddamn Saturday night; reach out to more people socially, be more focused on and consistent with dating, etc.

*I say this as someone for whom food and shelter has always being a guarantee.