eureka

This week has been a bothersome experience working through an apparent head cold that began last Saturday with a sore throat.  From there it progressed into incessant sneezing and snuffling, before descending into my chest for the grand finale of noisy, rattling coughing fits.  I was the favorite employee this week. I was.  They loved me when I stayed home from the office on Wednesday. 

Today I am pleased to report a mere 7 days later, I’m feeling 98% better.  I am loathe to even say that because in my life, I tend to experience reverse karma. The minute I say I’m 100% up-to-par, I’ll get chased down and flattened by a double-decker London bus. 

In Michigan. 

I would. 

But.  While in the throes of my cold I had a semi-genius thought.  I know. Y’all are hanging on the edge of your seats. Regardless, I’m sure y’all can totally get on board and in agreement with me that when you have a cold you can’t taste a dadgum thing.  Right?  The flat-out truth of the matter is when you have a really awful cold and you can’t smell anything … you can’t taste it either. 

And that, folks, is not necessarily a bad thing.

Eureka!

After plowing through my third box of Kleenex and drudging through days of insipidly tasteless meals, the thought struck me.  What an incredibly inspired diet plan.  It’s so stupidly simple, why it just borders on genius.  When you can’t taste, you lose the desire to eat.  Jenny Craig, y’all have nothing on me here. 

To scientifically prove my case, there’s a show, ‘Food Detectives’, on the Food Network.  In one particular episode of that series they offered up a panel of five individuals who were put through the (non) rigorous task of identifying the food placed before them to determine what human sense is required to get the full eating experience.   In one run of the experiment, the panel had to taste the food while blindfolded so they couldn’t see what they were eating.  In conclusion, for the most part, y’all can still recognize and savor what you’re eating if you can’t see it. So. Check.  Sight isn’t necessarily a requisite to enjoying good food. 

But. 

Oh my, when they trussed the panel up with blindfolds and noseplugsNot a single one of them correctly identified what they were eating.  Yep. I even ran the TiVo in reverse to watch it again. Nada.  Food had lost it’s power without the sense of smell.

I feel like cackling.

The whole idea was so profound that I … who am ever grateful for my generally tolerant husband … even asked him ‘You know, I wonder why no one has invented some sort of inhaler that you’d snuffle anytime you felt the urge to grab a Little Debbie? Something that would totally obliterate your sense of smell and make sweets completely undesirable?’   He wanted to roll his eyes. I could tell. But my guy humored me.  And that’s why we’ve been together 27 years. He gets me.

But.  Back to the snootless system of dieting.  Why, pray tell, hasn’t anyone thought of it?  A little bottle of smell-blocking spray, some fancy nose pincher.  If you can’t taste what you’re eating … why the heck even bother?  And why am I the only one who put two-and-two together. 

Geesh. 

That’s the scariest part.

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2 thoughts on “eureka

  1. Watson, I think you’re on to something. I just pinched my nose and took a bit of my dill pickle spear. Nothing except some crunch! I could not tell I was eating a pickle even though I knew I was. Yep, get that patent!

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