Don't Go Fish

Trying not to go the way of the Mexican cavefish.

View into the almost empty jar of cashews.

Eating like an adult is sometimes a challenge. Occasionally I excel at it. Oftentimes, and moreso of late, I seem to do it quite poorly.

It feels like it is among my adulting hurdles of late. I used to have a tidy apartment, at least in the public spaces, where I could host people. That has gone to pot. And in spectacular crash and burn fashion. I am not on top of my finances anymore, either. I am confident I'm fine, but I used to be quite organized about it. I went off track somewhere. 

Today's lunch base consisted of leftover pita chips from the business travel per diem lunch from over a week ago. The creative part was jazzing up the accompanying hummus - already in the fridge - with liberal cayenne pepper and paprika, and then topping it with toasted walnuts and, here was the clever part, toasted French fried onions from a can left over from Thanksgiving. The onions added a nice salty, crunchy touch to the makeshift lunch. And this was all made possible because I finally hand washed a small frying pan that had sat dirty for far too long.

At least on the dining front, apparently I am not alone...

Now, if only I could take my own advice, right? The eggrolls were better than nothing, but not optimal. But accountability can be a good thing.

@1pot1plate is an acquaintance, a friend of a friend whom I have met a couple of times, and otherwise have interacted with only on social media. She seems very sweet and lovely, someone I might really like.

Anyway, she hit upon something that struck me - the depression and ADHD. I have suspected for a while that I am an undiagnosed case of ADD; Sissy, too. And I rather suspect that the atrocious housekeeping is a symptom of low grade depression that coincided with COVID - it was the stress of work, and the disappointment of failed relationships, and infertility, and watching the window on having a family close and not doing anything until it was too late, and not knowing how to mourn all of it, or quite letting go of the hope. And the numbing agent has been social media, rather than housekeeping. And it was all hidden away because there was too much work and accumulation during the pandemic as it was, and no one was visiting. Anyway, it's hard to make meals when the kitchen is perpetually messy.

And so easily a downward spiral can set in. The sedentariness. The change in everything. Except, in my case, I ate LESS during the pandemic. I became accustomed and inured to periods of starvation. Not exactly like the Mexican cavefish, but certainly less muscle mass.

I need to snap myself out of this. Make some headway. Swim against the current again, find the light, not lose my eyes - those poor cavefish.

[Edited to completion February 6, 2023.]