Eating Out

I'm actually beginning this post with the intention of writing about eating out, but I will first mention something seemingly unrelated. That is, the sky of Colorado is so expansive, often tablecloth blue, with large, bulbous and billowing clouds that mirror the mountains below. I find it difficult to imagine something giving a feeling that comes close to the satisfaction produced by that sky. Maybe that's one of the meanings of life.

"Eating out" is something I often think about because the people I work with continually comment on my bringing the same simple lunch every day. The people who comment are the people who always eat out. I never really feel good after eating at restaurants, and reckless abandon comes to mind when faced with the prospect of putting that food inside myself everyday. I don't think convenience is the primary reason behind eating out that often; these days, many foods are saturated with chemicals (natural or artificial) to cause a sort of climax, and there is further reinforcement of the climax due to the ability to eat out frequently. We're adults earning money, which bestows upon us the power to have others feed us. And I think this seemingly unconscious capacity becomes the epitome of existence for some people; after all, we need (or would like) to eat several times a day, every day.

The goal, for me, is to attempt to differentiate between distraction and what has (or should have) meaning. I'm not sure what meaning there is in a sandwich containing previously individually wrapped, refrigerated meats and vegetables made by a stranger. All I know is I don't want to get to the point where I can't tell the difference between that sandwich and that big blue sky.