One can only buy new clothes so often. One is not rich.

So recently I went from an all-foot job to receptionist. I used to work 4 days/week, 10 hour shifts, mostly on my feet sorting things and stacking bins.

Now that I sit on my bottom, I'm trying to eat less. It hasn't been as hard as I thought, because...

A.
When you hate your job, eating becomes a sort of reward for being there. Now that I'm happy, I'm not thinking about food as much.

B.
When you hate your job your day goes SLOWLY. (Or maybe: When your day goes slow, you hate your job?) So taking breaks becomes this all-important, critically timed activity. And then see A: Sitting down to eat something and read the cartoons in the reward for surviving the sound of your brain cells dying.

C.
At my old job I worked alone, so there was no one to judge me. And I was next to a grocery store. And I rarely made lunches, cause I was so tired after work, and so unhappy, that I didn't like to cook. All this means I would: Go to the grocery store, buy Eg. egg salad and crusty bread, maybe some mini package cookies, some apples -- then sit and nosh.

At my new job I'm in a break room, and there's usually other people eating. So there is a sort of Public Gaze. Plus French people tend to eat nutritiously--I mean, they're eating Grain + Veggie + Meat dish. Or hearty salad. So when I don't see anything to eat at home and just bring in a couple avocados and a yogurt, or just bring in a thing of rice, I will get the "Is that all your eating?" question.

There isn't necessarily judgment in a mean way. But The Public Gaze. Which is great, really. It's very helpful. But even when I'm on break alone, I find myself satiated with half a granola bar. Amazing the effect of happiness on the mind.

So there you go. I didn't gain weight when I was at the donation center; but I also don't want to gain weight now. One can only buy new clothes so often. One is not rich.