I love my parents dearly, but for some reason their house is my kryptonite when it comes to dieting willpower. I lost a lot of weight when I left for college (though I had some seriously disordered eating, which is a story for another time), but I picked up the habit of late-night bingeing when I'd come home for holidays. Maybe I felt like I was on vacation? Or like I wanted to assert my independence by eating everything in the fridge? There's no easy way to psychoanalyze this, so I'll stop trying. Suffice it to say that I'm at my parents' house this weekend, it's late, I'm stressed about starting grad school on Monday and the freelance story I have to revise by then too, and I feel like raiding the fridge.
The worst part of my compulsion to eat here is that my parents are really healthy (well, my dad is lentils-and-brown-rice healthy and my mom just eats a really restricted diet because she has some stomach problems) so there's never anything gloriously fattening (and therefore, satisfying) in their fridge. Right now I have the choice of white wonder bread, leftover beans and rice, a weight watchers ice cream sandwich, grapes, raw baked potatoes, or rold gold honey wheat pretzels. Bleh. Why can't they have cold pizza or leftover chinese food stashed somewhere? Oh wait. Because my parents aren't college freshman. Hmm. Maybe being a grown up means preparing responsible square meals instead of eating junk at random times?
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