When I was in college, Mac n'Cheese and the Pizza Truck were my sole sources of comfort during late nights spent studying and pounding my head against a wall. While I could have pursued more noble and inspired forms of comfort like reading the Bible, meditating, or otherwise pondering the meaning of life, I instead tried to solve all of my problems (or simply to escape them) through these simple, inexpensive, and far from healthy means of injecting oft-unneeded calories into my body.
Decades later, those calories have become even more unneeded. Even though I have escaped from the clutches of my undergraduate program, I am still a big fan of earthly forms of comfort when stress sends my emotional, mental, and spiritual well being skidding down a slippery slope. Just as I did when I was younger, I make these choices for comfort despite the fact that they may be unhealthy for my body, pocketbook, or both. I justify consuming a vast array of comfort "foods" as emergency stopgap measures to stave off impending insanity or mental breakdown.
For example, Thai food has replaced Pizza as the preferred take-out comfort food. There is nothing like multiple stars of heat combined with a flavorful curry to distract me from all things that begin or end with the word deadline.
For cooking at home, throwing a hamburger on the grill has replaced throwing macaroni in a pot of boiling water. A thick, juicy hamburger fresh off the grill sandwiched between two halves of a bun whose carbohydrates can't be found in any diet book anywhere is just the right solution to temporarily ignoring a to-do list that extends out the door, down the road, and into the next county.
Or for all those things that are annoying (and yes, this includes a fair measure of people), settling into a new fresh cotton t-shirt offers warmth, comfort, and an extra measure of patience necessary for diplomatic, professional, gentle, and other manner of kind responses that might otherwise be overshadowed by a sarcastic retort or rolling of the eyes.
And for all those things that anger me, I turn to my suite of lawn maintenance equipment. The weed whacker in particular offers comfort during those times that a seemingly endless list of bureaucratic tasks stands in the way of getting anything meaningful done. The lawn mower offers a different and simpler type of comfort -- an escape from one meeting after another after another, and after another.
And for all those times that I feel like a task mule rather than a female of the species, I give thanks to toe nail polish and the quiet moments spent doing little more than adding color to my toes, one at a time. Seahawks blue, then green, then blue, then green again. Only six more to go!
And for those times that the events of the world are too much to bear, a hot bath with somewhere between a million and a million and a half bubbles residing within will take the edge off, if only for a little while.
And for those times that grief closes in and surrounds me, giving me no easy way out through any of my favorite creature comforts -- crying is my only choice. Salty rivers that could fill a dozen bottles hold some of the unbearable weight of loss until exhausted and spent, I fall into the deep comfort of sleep.
But crying makes it so hard to grill burgers, paint my toenails, or pick up Thai food. In fact, crying can make operating lawn maintenance equipment downright dangerous. And, there's no easy way to blow the nose while in a bubble bath.
So, like any self-respecting American, I put off crying for yet another day. Instead, I turn back to creature comforts of many shapes and sizes, cultivated from years of practice in managing the unmanageable -- emotions.
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