When I was a kid, my mother taught me a lesson about appetites and hunger. An hour before dinner, when I asked her for a snack, she offered me carrots.
“But I’m not hungry for carrots,” I whined, “I’m hungry for a cookie.”
She replied, “If you’re not hungry for carrots then you’re not really hungry.”
Now that I am all grown up, I know eating a cookie an hour before dinner will spoil my appetite. But why do I want one?
My answer is stress.
Stress is my reaction to life’s demands. It results in me staring at the ceiling at 2 a.m. or renders me unable to recall the words “paper towel” in a conversation or instigates my yelling at the toaster when the bagel gets stuck.