My application for the Darwin awards

I've been antsy. I've been sleeping poorly. Everything, both at work and at home, seems to have been happening ... oddly. Nothing horrendous, just odd.

There was just a blue moon.

This coming Friday is the 13th.

I've been eating a lot of spicy food.

While any one of these things could account for this weirdness, the only one over which I have any control is my diet. And yet I continue to indulge in peppers, onions, salt and garlic when there is a 33.3% chance that these items are adversely affecting my life.

This "coincidence" occurs to me after receiving a warning email from my husband. He wrote to inform me that a piece of blackberry pie has just made it's way into his stomach - a pie whose crust is known to contain dairy. He's intolerant to even the most insignificant quantity of lactose and allergic to blackberries (these ones, hopefully, have been cooked thoroughly and are, therefore, benign).

How stupid are we??

I know which foods keep me from sleeping and which wines give me headaches as well as I know not to run out into traffic or to handle a downed power line. My husband is very well aware of what contains dairy, nuts, fruits and soy and even refuses to use a knife with which I may have sliced my cheese sandwich. Yet we both, fully informed and presumably competent, are purposely and happily ingesting those foodstuffs that harm us.

There's no clinic for this. No patch or group therapy. I have yet to read an article showing almonds, butter or green onion to be stupefyingly addictive.

We have will power, honestly. I can avoid the 3pm chocolate bar and stop after one cup of coffee. My husband can by-pass the brie. But some deep seeded need to be humbled, reminded of our weaknesses or display our imperfections seems to prevail when it comes to our dietary senses. We know we'll survive - there's no extreme puffer fish cuisine here. We'll just be uncomfortable for a while (sometimes more so than others, and sometimes more so for the person who didn't have the lapse in judgment). But I fail to see how, while not life threatening, this willful intestinal abuse can be healthy. How much sleep deprivation, dehydration and itchiness can a body be expected to take?

My sister-in-law's into cleanses and I have to admit that I'm intrigued by them. I'm also intrigued by vegetarianism, the avoidance of refined flour, sugars and prepackaged foods. However, no passing curiosity has yet to make me a granola-loving, wild rice-steaming vegan. I eat my share of tofu. I just mix it with ground turkey and cook it really well so my husband doesn't have to take any more anti-histamines. I then throw in a few hot peppers for extra kick. I'll wake up around 2:30am because of it, but that'll give me a chance to plan tomorrow's menu.