April 1 [Day 1]: Brown out

7am: Oatmeal is my go-to breakfast. Normally it's a blank canvas onto which I happily deliver the spoils of my latest visit to the Whole Foods superfoods shelf: goji berries, chia seeds, maca pwder, cacao nibs. Today, the only ornament I add is a glob of peanut butter. But woe to the challenger that threatens my daily coffee making ritual...although there is some irony in using a V60 to brew McCafe.

9:45am: Hunger hits, also not abnormal for this time of day. The trusty peanut butter jar that will become my sidekick for the week is ready for action - one spoonful of the crunchy stuff and I've kicked distraction for now.

12pm: Lunchtime. Normally, I'm a regular in the salad bar line of the on-site cafeteria - but today even the smallest container would break my budget. So today, I'm dining on the most popularly referenced budget lunch there is: rice and beans. The diversity of flavor is roughly on par with the diversity of colors I see on the plate - so I wander innocently into the cafeteria, and what do you know, when I leave there's one less tablespoon of sriracha in their inventory. Stealing? Leveraging resources? Lines blur quickly.

4pm: I'm hungry. Peanut butter will be my saving grace.
4:15pm: Why did I spend $2.50 on romaine lettuce, which has the caloric density of paper?
4:16pm: My professor is discussing tax implications of various forms of stock-based compensation. Here's some math: if peanut butter is $0.13 a tablespoon, how many more calories could I get from selling that dumb romaine on the street for 80 cents on the dollar? (By the way...is it abnormal to feel resentment toward a vegetable?)

9:30pm: Another chromatically stimulating meal (eggs and sweet potatoes). My normal relationship with food - one of discovery, appreciation, and play - has been replaced today with interactions I can best characterize as utilitarian. When I head to bed, I feel fed; but I don't feel full.