In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Finite Creatures” for a Blogging 101 Assignment.
Uh, what do you mean I’m not immortal? This is news to me. I’m forty-eight years old, and I still eat bacon; that’s right, bacon. And not just any old bacon, an amazing hickory-smoked bacon called Benton’s Bacon. It is so heavenly that it can’t be hurting me, right? Someone. Say. Right.
I use real half and half in my coffee. I mean what is fat free half and half? That’s none and none. Just looking at a carton of fat free “half-and-half” is enough to launch me into an existential crisis. That must be what those guys Waiting for Godot drink.
I use butter, again good butter. DeLitia is my favorite for sweet pastries, and goat butter adds a fantastic richness to savory dishes. I always use it for the crust of a cottage pie. And here is the real proof I am still immortal: I just bought two pints ‘o lard from my butcher shop to use in my pastry crusts– along with the butter.
While everything I just said is true, I am not as cavalier with my health as it might appear. All of those choices are trans-fat free. I enjoy the bacon sparingly, and actually its strong flavor means that as an ingredient, I use far less of it than of regular bacon. I usually drink my single-estate, shade grown, French-pressed coffee black. (Yes, I’m a coffee snob.)
Loss of Innocence Can Bring Freedom
I began embracing what I consider more worthwhile splurges as part of my realization that I will not live forever. In fact, nothing I do can make me immortal. I do see my doctor regularly (good cholesterol, by the way), but I’m not going to eschew the things I really enjoy in a vain attempt to conquer death.
This particular loss of innocence came with a certain freedom. I remember dieting all the time when I was younger, looking longingly at a piece of cake or some fried chicken. I tortured myself with exercises that I loathed with all the passion one usually reserves for a cheating lover. I was miserable for years; I gained nothing but weight.
When I realized that my finite life is too short to waste, I gained happiness.
From the Other Side of the Desk
This post was written as an assignment for my Blogging 101 course, but I found it a good exercise in experiencing writing like my students do. They get prompts to which they must respond
off the tops of their heads for all types of evaluations. As such an experiment, I have not given myself the luxury of multiple edits and re-writes. This is my view from the other side of the desk.