Apart from snacks, I’ve eaten only one meal a day for the past week. Not a particularly large meal, either. And I know why, against all sense, I’ve done this – an inate desire not to disregard the conventions placed on me by society.
You see, since returning to uni I’ve been staying up pretty late every night. This isn’t much different from at home, of course, but here I’m responsible for all my food. Since I always try to give myself somewhere near to eight hours’ sleep, this means I get up around midday. I’ve not eaten breakfast for years, so it’s normal for me to just carry on without getting something to eat. Eventually, though, I decide it’s long past dinner time and I should get something, so I do – this is usually around 3 o’clock, though it can be as late as five. Now you may begin to see where my problem lies. This mid-afternoon meal keeps me going for quite a while, and by the time I begin to feel hungry again, it’s about 11 or 12 at night – and cooking a meal in the middle of the night just doesn’t seem right, y’know? I’m so entrenched in societies conventional eating habits that I’ve gone short a meal five days in a row.
Well, today it seems to have caught up on me – I’ve been hungry all day. I had two small plates of chips at lunchtime; later we all got takeaway and watched a film. Now, it’s after 1 am and I have some more chips in the oven. So much for the whole cooking meals after midnight thing. Why should it matter, anyway – I ain’t no gremlin, I can eat whenever I want. And I want eat.
(If you’re wondering why I’ve been quiet lately, two reasons: laziness, and because I’ve been working very slowly on a very long post that will probably arrive long past the time it was relevant.)