As someone who frequently works long hours at a job that takes either absolutely no focus or every ounce of attention I can muster, one of the most difficult problems that invades the later portion of my day is hunger. I’ve dealt with it before, usually in much more difficult situations overall, so this isn’t a problem in the way that my insomnia is a problem. It’s more of a problem in the way that my penchant for flipping between the same few websites when I get distracted is a problem. It tends to mostly impact my mental health and my ability to stay focused on whatever I’m doing, which in turn impacts how frequently I wind up flipping between websites or taking a break to do a little writing. It’s ignorable if I have the spoons to put into the effort, but when I’m working a bunch of ten-hour days in a row (or eleven-hour days, like this week as I cope with an unexpected confluence of schedule disruptions), I’m usually better off saving my spoons for something that isn’t a problem I can solve with a little foresight and planning. For most of this past year, that has looked like bringing an apple and an extra banana to work every day, so that I’ve got a snack when I start to get hungry in the mid-afternoon (three hours after I’ve eaten lunch) and then a second snack, if needed, for when I start to feel hungry in the late afternoon or early evening.
Continue readingHunger
Growth
Arnold left his room in the dead of night, carefully stepping around every creaking board as he made his way downstairs. It was after midnight, his family was asleep, and Arnold had grown hungry.
He made himself a quick sandwich to hold him over while he pre-heated the oven. Once it beeped, and he’d finished the banana he’d taken after the last crumbs of the sandwich had disappeared, he popped a pair of pizzas in to cook.
While he waited the prescribed twelve minutes, he reflected on the constant gnawing hunger he’d felt while at school, where they wouldn’t even let him snack on the bags of pretzels he’d stuffed into his locker. He’d tried to sneak them into class by sticking them in his pockets, but the snap and crunch had given him away instantly. As had his classmates. Not even they understood what he was going through.
His parents got it, though, sort of. They didn’t like seeing him eat as much as he did, but they didn’t question his need for the extra food. He heard his dad saying something to his mom about “puberty” and him being a “growing boy.” He wasn’t sure why they thought that. He was eighteen, a senior in college. He’d gone through puberty years ago.
That being said, he was happy to let them assume whatever they wanted. They wouldn’t understand if he explained it, so he avoided it as much as they did. He hadn’t even seen a doctor about it. He didn’t want to end up in a lab.
So he ate two frozen pizzas, another banana, and then went to bed so the alien parasite growing inside him could get all the nutrients it needed. He was proud to be a dad, especially to such a special child.