Ikwym. For a while there, i was telling my t that it felt like the st valentines day massacre guys were waiting for me in my kitchen, waiting to gun me down. As late as last week, i was using the kitchen to deprive myself - i had thought about buying some packet splenda for my tea, but i thought that extravagant, so i kept the counter messy where i would have put the packet holder. Im not even really aware of these stupid games i play with myself. T tries to make me aware of feeling good when i do something i like in the kitchen, but even that can be worrisome. I think you have to just try to make it a habit. When i got back home from the hospital after my stroke - after only 3 days, 2 nights - it was soooooo comforting to me to be able to make my familiar little canned chicken and prepared guac sandwiches - i felt like i had a routine.