Daydreaming

My friend Wendy, a former missionary, told me once if you remove some vice or temptation from your life, you have to replace it with something or you will likely return to it. In a phrase, "repent and replace." It's why so many former drug addicts smoke cigarettes-in fact, I'm not sure I've ever seen a recovery show where the newly sober addict isn't smoking. Though far far less serious than an addiction to narcotics, I'm having a hard time staying away from something I don't actually want but feels good enough to keep doing. It's as empty as choosing cotton candy over steak but the cotton candy is here now and I don't know when or if the steak is coming. I could easily convince myself to live for the day, as I did when courting the cotton candy solution. But I know it's not good enough to pass up a chance at steak, even if I can't smell it cooking. Can you tell I'm writing while hungry? I've been daydreaming about the euphemistic cotton candy and steak men all day. I dream of cotton candy chasing me and compelling me to consume and of the steak seduction, tickling first my senses, then my palate. Sorry if I've ruined both for you. I really am hungry. Trail mix ain't cuttin' it.

I'm entertaining that duality while employing another one of my classic (mal)adaptive coping mechanisms, procrastination. And now I'm adding another layer of sophistication to distraction/diversion/procrastination by writing about it. My avoidance is its own art form. So instead of dealing with the chaos I have wrought in the room of shame, and even though I skipped the gym, I'm thinking of going to have a beer. Perhaps where potential steak works, perhaps somewhere with far less pressure. Somewhere I can just gaze into my glass, get tipsy on an empty stomach, and relax enough to consider something other than spun sugar and bovines.