“How tedious is a guilty conscience!” ~John Webster

I had a piece of key lime pie before I left work tonight. I was STARVING and the cooks had already closed up the kitchen by the time my side-work was done. All that was available to me was dessert.

Now I feel guilty. Which leads me to the need to blog about guilt (I seem to be coming up short on new subject matter).

Guilt is a wonderful reaction that I have to almost everything imaginable. (And when I say 'wonderful' what I really mean is 'lousy, distressing, unpleasant, and/or annoying'). I attribute this response to my mother's cultivating it during the entire time I resided under her roof. I have no idea if she did this on purpose or if it was simply how she was raised, and therefore she passed it on to me. It is irrelevant at this point in time because guilt is something that I feel in an almost carnal manner. No amount of conscious rationalization seems to quell the unconscious need my mind has to feel guilty.

My jeans are too damn tight. Winter months in a small town in a cold climate are HELL on the waistline. Food has been my savior for as long as I can remember. I eat out of boredom, I eat when I'm upset, I eat to celebrate, I eat when I'm depressed. I have struggled with my weight for as long as I can remember. I was always the pudgy kid. Not fat, just not 'trim'. I was 'not trim' enough to be the fat friend (at least I always felt that way). Therefore, not eating junk food is an exercise in self control and will-power. I am probably the skinniest I have ever been (at least I was when winter started). So, whenever I eat crappy food, I feel guilty. Like...like I've failed somehow. I feel (seriously, one piece of pie has this effect) like my stomach is bloated and my thighs and butt have grown.

J bought me lunch today. She knows I'm financially strapped and decided we should get lunch and offered to buy. I took her up on it. Now, I feel guilty. She's just as poor as I am. I shouldn't have accepted. I suck. Moocher.

I had the kids on Sunday while The Good Guy was at work. I was exhausted from closing the restaurant and then getting up early the two days prior. And, I had to work Sunday night. I was not exactly my good-time self. I feel guilty for being totally preoccupied with the need to sleep while they were trying to get me to play. Loser.

See? I could rationalize that one piece of pie (in lieu of a meal) isn't going to make me tubby, or that J is coming into some extra money and she can afford one $30 lunch, or that the kids were fine and they needed that reading time I made them take while I snuck in a nap.

Still, the guilt lingers on.

It's okay though. I don't seem to be losing sleep. The guilt doesn't last forever. AND, I usually feel really skinny when I wake up in the morning (something having to do with gravity sucking on my stomach fat while I lie in bed).

I do wonder though, is guilt taught, or is it in-born? Is it a gender thing? Is is passed down primarily from mothers to daughters, or do sons carry the burden as well? Do fathers play a role in the passing-on of guilt? Where does religion come in? I am not religious. Spiritual maybe, religious-NO. Organized religion makes me cringe (there's another long post that may leave some offended), so that's certainly not the root of my guilt. It's an interesting phenomenon this "guilt". Does it keep us in check, or hold us back (perhaps a bit of both?)

Well, whatever. I've had two glasses (maybe 3?) of wine, and I feel the guilt melting away. I think that if I were sober, this post would be much more meaningful (Oh, goodness-should I feel guilty about being tipsy?) But, it is what it is-entertainment for me and my few loyal readers.

I would like to open my comment section to thoughts anyone may have on this 'guilt' phenomenon. Who experiences it? To what degree? How do you think it came about?

Oh, and this is a note to self more than a note to anyone reading: I intend to write a post about the book I just read, and the fact that it has inspired me to write a novel :-) No, seriously!