Hungry with no appetite

My confusion seems to be growing in proportion to the length of the days. It could also be that my clarity is linked to the length of the nights. Either way, I’m having quite a time putting this puzzle together. On top of this, or maybe because of it, my body seems to be experiencing the physiological equivalent of cognitive dissonance. All day, I’ve been hungry but haven’t had an appetite.

My mornings usually start with coffee. If it doesn’t start with coffee, my day hasn’t begun. I have trouble eating until about an hour or two after I wake up so I try to give myself time in the mornings for this. I usually end up eating a cold bagel or soggy cereal. Having been at home for the last month or so, the kitchen hasn’t been too far away for too long. Now, I have the opportunity to refill a mug of coffee instead of relying on the science of Contigo. I can also warm up a meal or grab a quick snack from the crisper.

My routines have shifted slightly and fallen somewhere between a normal working day and a four-day-long weekend. I’m waking up later than I would like but also finding it difficult to stay up much past the evening.

The longer that I’m at home, the more it seems that I’m losing sight of what I’m looking for. It’s a strange thing to have happen in a space that I have near-complete control over. At the same time, my apartment is no longer a retreat, a reclusive hideaway from the world outside. These days, going for a walk through a local park seems like a devilish act, worthy of someone like Dennis. That park has become something of a beacon, calling me toward it each day, reminding me that I need to leave my footprints in the frosty ground.

After feeding Riel his dinner, he went down for a nap and I decided that I should heed the call and go for a walk in the park. It might spur my appetite, I thought, and it might be a good time to think about what I want today’s blog post to be about. I walked to and from the park more slowly than I normally would. Not having eaten much during the day, I needed to conserve my energy. I also needed time away from the space that has become so familiar to me.

Perhaps my stomach and appetite are experiencing the same. One knows that everything is within reach and the other that there needs to be some disruption to the relentless sameness. Each day, the stomach needs to be fed. And, each day, the appetite is looking for something with a different flavour.

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