Brooding for Dummies, Friday, Period 2

[furnaceface]

//Morning, class,// Jono greeted, the lesson for today set up in a classroom. //Have you eaten today?//

It was an important question, okay? Yesterday's activity in the park had given him another idea for class today, and while there wasn't necessarily such a thing as a good brooding food, there was such a thing as a good comfort food.

//When people fall into a particular state, they sometimes get so lost in it that they forget to take care of the essentials,// he explained. //Maybe they don't eat, or shower, or tidy up as much as they ought to. Hell, it can be difficult to even leave the house when it gets bad enough. And... there's not much I can do about the rest, but today we can at least lean into eating.//

Well, you all could. Jono was going to have to spectate for this one.

//Here, I think, the trick is to find something easy. Make sure that easy thing is always an option, even when you've got other things to... feel. Think about. Whatever.// He shrugged. //There's a certain point where you don't even have to worry about it being healthy, just worry about it being food. Get delivery, keep some energy bars in the cupboard, just eat a block of ramen noodles dry, if that'll keep you going.//

... He'd resorted to a few of these things back during his, ah, blue period.

//Anyway, we're ordering pizza today. Figure out what toppings you want and let me know, and I'll pay.//

Comments

Re: Lecture!

[white_oleander]

'Self-care for the depressed,' indeed. For such an absurd class, it was doing a pretty remarkable job of digging into Astrid. She tried not to shift to show her discomfort. Forgetting to eat for yourself was one thing, but Astrid's mother, in her highest highs and lowest lows, would also forget that she had a small child that needed to eat as well. Comfort food for Astrid ended up being those rare moments when Ingrid was lucid enough to be nurturing, tamales and elotes in Guanajuato, raw and smoked herring in rainy Amsterdam, croissants and coffee in little Parisian bistros. It was kind strangers who could tell by looking at her that she was far too skinny; it was walking to the store after stealing some money out of her mother's purse because Ingrid had forgotten to get groceries again...

Just worry about it being food. Beggars couldn't be choosers.