Doldrums Eating

I need to think about eating something. I feel down tonight, but not eating isn't a solution. There's no compelling reason I have to eat; it's not like I'm going to starve; but just giving in to a bad mood isn't the answer either.

The thing about eating, though, is it takes effort. More effort than pushing the keys on this keyboard. And my stomach is doing some things. But what is there? I have some things in the refrigerator that could make a meal. The problem is some of it is the same stuff I have for breakfast. And I don't want every meal to be breakfast.

I could go out but I hate spending money at this point. I've had some crazy expenses -- family crises -- and it'd be better to keep back plenty for the next rainy day, which could be literally any minute. There's no telling. There's no security, that's for sure.

I have a book somewhere, and I can't find it, even though I've looked several times. Maybe it's fitting that I can't find it. The book is something like this, "The Wisdom of Insecurity," and I think it's by Alan Watts. (I looked it up on Wikipedia and that's the correct title and author.) I see he wrote it in 1951. Anyway, I've looked at it in places over the years but never have read it through. I seem to recall the upshot is that being insecure is actually a pretty good way to be. What reason? This I don't know, but my guess would be it keeps you trying, keeps you alert, and lets you know life is meant to be lived this moment, moment to moment, and not like The Rich Fool of the Bible.

The big problem is I feel like I like security, even if it causes all kinds of pain. Just thinking of complete insecurity, I will leave that pleasure for when and if it just happens all by itself. I can hardly see me being homeless and all that. It's a terrible thought, but who knows, maybe it wouldn't be all that bad. I don't say that humorously.

I think there's a couple of cranky pork chops in the fridge. By cranky, I mean the ones the grocery store hides under the good looking ones. The first to be packed, the last to be eaten. They have a kind of security in their insecurity.