Tuesday, February 01, 2005

Gimme My Blankie, While You're At It

A few weeks ago, I gave my Weight Watchers leader (that always sounds so cult-y, doesn't it?) my journal. She wondered if I was eating enough -- the first time anyone has ever wondered that about me -- and I asked her if she'd peruse it and give me her thoughts. Last week, I got it back. She had written all kinds of thoughtful and helpful observations. Observation number one: You eat oatmeal every day. Don't you get tired of it? The answer: Hell, no.

I love oatmeal. You can never tear us apart. I love it so much that breakfast is the meal I look forward to most on many days. For probably 5 years now, a big bowl of Quaker quick-cooking oats (no envelopes, yo) topped with salt and I Can't Believe It's Not Butter has been the perfect start. When I can't have my oatmeal and my giant mug of coffee, my day just ain't going to be right and everything is out of whack. Some nights, when I've had a hectic night at work and taking a book straight to bed won't cut it, I'll have another bowl of oatmeal.

I even eat it in the dead of summer, when the humidity is, like, 1,000% and the air doesn't move and coffee and oatmeal only make you sweat all over the place. That's OK, I just eat it before I take a shower. Problem solved!

But I ask, how much can go wrong when you've started your day with a giant bowl of comfort food?