My life mostly consists of going to work and laying on the couch with these two lately. They make pretty great companions, they always have. They’re alway warm and snuggly and somehow seem to hang around when I’m feeling the worst.

This week I tried to bake. I measured ingredients and mixed them together. And that’s as far as I got. The dough, remains tightly wrapped in plastic in my fridge waiting to be rolled out and cut into perfect little graham crackers. I have been desperate to cook and bake and mix and knead. It was not evident how desperately in love with food I am until I was no longer able to interact with it. Eating has become a delicate balance of eating enough that I don’t feel sick but not too much. Yesterday I ate curry, proceeded to throw it all up and then got ice cream, as it seemed like maybe it would go down easy. Fortunately, it did.

My relationship to food has changed, but not my love for it. I still find myself drawn to my favorite food blogs wanting desperately to feel good enough to have a super snack party on sunday(no football in my house, sorry people). Things like this chex mix and these pretzel dogs seem like so much fun.

I’m remaining hopeful that this will slowly fade in the next few weeks and I will be back in my kitchen, drooling over my stove. It’s the stock pile of recipes I want to try that’s getting me through and I can’t wait to feel hungry enough to make them.