I binged yesterday. Except I didn’t. That is, I binged, but it was a regular binge, not a bulimia binge. The difference is in quality and quantity, both important factors. Quantity especially. When it comes to numbers, a bulimic binge can be a different kind of animal. [i] I remember listening to my friends as they talked about their pig-out sessions. A whole bag of … Continue reading I binged yesterday.
The new year is coming. If ever one was welcome, it’s this one. Time then for resolutions. Except, I don’t make them. I prefer to set an annual theme instead. That’s not to say my brain doesn’t nag me about behaviours I need to change. But themes allow me flexibility; the rigidity of lists can cause problems if you struggle with obsessive and compulsive thoughts. … Continue reading Not, “the Year of Happiness”: Looking Outward Instead.
I like numbers, save for those found in high-level cosmology and physics. And that’s really a jealousy issue: I hate that I don’t speak the language. I stopped my math education at university, year one. I can mostly understand the lectures but the papers and texts might as well be Greek. Which they also use. An affection for numbers is a good thing to have: … Continue reading Annoying numbers and hard-boiled eggs.
The fridge is bursting. There’s too much food in the house. Definitely a problem of privilege. I’m aware of that, yet my problems are my problems, real and difficult for me; other people’s different problems don’t negate my reality. I’ve had this issue before. I don’t do it to myself – I’m careful about the quantities I maintain – so the stress-inducing over-capacity isn’t my … Continue reading The fridge is bursting.
From Famine to Feast. 