Day 37

Yeah. It’s been a while.

I gaze at my keyboard as I do of the baguettes in the store fronts, with apprehension, and wonder to myself why it is we tear apart the very fibers that tend to hold ourselves together.

Somber thought for a Friday morning in Trinity library. 32 breadless days in the last 37. 32 mornings of waking up to yet again, porridge. 32 evenings of make-shift tortilla shell pizzas. And you know what? After over a month of the nonsense, I’d like to believe that I’ve learned something important. Bread isn’t my fibers.

Well. Actually, it is to a certain extent…

What I mean to say is that bread isn’t what holds me together; it’s the comfort that is served alongside it. It’s the familiarness that is sprinkled on top. It’s the god damn flakes on the side of the croissant that my tongue melts on impact, I’m that hott.

Eating bread has lead to thinking about bread. Which has lead to writing about bread. Which has lead to psychoanalyzing my undivided and consistent emotional attachment to an inanimate object that lingers a moment on the lips and forever on the hips. This sequence is not favorable. And I blame this terrible progression solely on Trinity.

Yes, you Trinity College, you overzealous and pretentious school.

I have a paper on Insight and Creative Thinking due next week. That’s why I came to the library this morning. To work on my paper. But all I can think about is how much happier, more productive, charismatic, and good looking I would be if I could have just had toast for breakfast.

And this is where it hits me. Bread will do none of the afore mentioned things. It may in fact do the polar opposite. I know this. I am a nutrition student, and though I near-to fail out of every chemistry class, I know what massive amounts of carbohydrates do to the serotonin and insulin in a body. So why do I want it?

About a week ago, I cheated.

In Howth. It was dusk. Wind was calm and the sea was spraying drops of salt water along the pier, and the ambiance was just stellar, it shouldn’t have happened… but it did….

All over a hamburger. A hamburger wrapped in a decadent sesame seed bun. I bit into it like I hadn’t had beef for years (which I haven’t) with the appetite of a practiced carnivore (which I’m not).

My life is a walking contradiction.

So now that I am over the bread cravings and on to the beef, chicken, and fish cravings, I’ve completed my attempt at total and complete irony, thru and thru.

Maybe it’s time to start that Insight paper.