April 11, 2011 § 16 Comments
Of all the vices out there, jealousy is one that I’m actually not particularly prone toward. I go in much more for some of the other ones (none of the interesting ones, I’m afraid, mostly just doubt. If I were to choose which vice I would rather have be my predisposition, I think I would choose sloth. I don’t know why. It’s an odd thing to think about anyway, so I’m going to stop now.)
However, all bets are off when we come to the realm of food. At times, I can be rather a slave to food jealousy. I’m that girl at a restaurant several tables over, craning my neck and trying to figure out what you’re having and wishing that I had ordered it (“I’ll have what she’s having”…) If we go out for ice cream, I take forever to decide which flavor to get, and then as soon as I have my little cup I’m immediately jealously eyeing everyone else’s luscious looking heaping cones of, I don’t even know what that is, butter brickle? Oreo? Purple razzle-dazzle chunky lola choco-madness? It doesn’t matter. I’m just jealous of it.