Caf food

I didn't end up writing yesterday since Little Sis needed the computer for her homework. I get a little antsy on days when I can't write because there's still so much to say and yet nothing seems to change day to day. I spent the night going over my Math textbook trying to wrap my head around trigonometry.

They should be teaching these kids computer science. How to write programs. How to do their taxes. I get why this math stuff would be valuable for some people but why does everyone have to learn it? And in my case, twice?

I'm doing a lot better in English. Reading, I can handle.

But I had other things on my mind today - food. After last Friday's discussion with Jessa's mom about the appropriate number of pizza slices, I have been very self-conscious about what I'm eating. Does that mean I passed up a chance to have a burger at A&W with Erika? Of course not. But today I'm sitting in the caf looking at my plate and feeling... sick.

Not literally sick, not like I was on my period or anything, but mentally I'm feeling anxious and self-conscious. That's because the caf food sucks. And it's not great for options. As soon as I came back here I found myself in the ritual of waiting in line to be dished out the the same old fries and gravy and chicken burgers, the only two things they really serve around here. (There are a few dicey sandwiches pre-wrapped in the fridge - does anyone trust a public school egg salad?)

I was hungry - starving in fact - but looking down at it I was like, "what am I doing?" Is everyone going to think I'm a pig for eating this burger, the same thing everyone else is eating, just because my body is not petite? And is it in any way my fault that this is what they serve to teenagers, day after day?

I feel like people look at someone who looks like Jessa - they see her eating anything besides maybe the skimpiest of salads and think "That's why you're fat" without a care given to the fact that they're eating the same stuff, often in the same quantities. It's unjust, and it's bothering me maybe more than it should, but maybe not. Maybe it's all in my head and seeing how even Jessa's mom talks to her has given me a complex or something, but I know from the outside that I probably thought that way in school as a teenager as well.

Also, I haven't been in a high school much lately in the year I come from, but I don't know if they still have pop machines there. I can't imagine they do but when I was a kid -- you know, the first time around -- we didn't think twice about putting in two bucks for a bottle of Mountain Dew with our greasy lunch. What's up with that? (I will say that in the short time I've been here I've definitely drank any bottle of Tahiti Treat I could get my hands on. That stuff is harder to come by in the future. Sugary goodness.)  

I got over it - I ate the burger and drank a Pepsi with it. It was crappy food, but satisfying. I thought about whether I should be bringing my own lunch (Mrs. Gilbert doesn't have time in the morning to prepare them and I haven't taken that on myself, hence a daily chicken burger.) But I have to make sure I'm doing it for the right reasons. Am I just worried about what people will think? Am I trying to "lose weight?" Do I think "eating right" will make a big difference in my, or Jessa's life? I don't know. These aren't questions I had to ask myself the first time around because I was a beanpole who ate like a garbage disposal. Jessa's experience as a teen is nowhere near close to mine for a variety of reasons. Being female, and on the chubby side, adds so many complications to decisions I took for granted when I was a kid.

Okay, big lesson learned, send me back now.