In 2014 I taught a summer class. My last paycheck from the spring semester had come and gone and I wouldn’t be paid again until late August. That meant I had to get through two months without any income. That meant a lot of white bread, peanut butter and spaghetti, day in, day out. By mid-August I was often eating one meal a day.
One night, down to my last dollar, I went to the store, exhausted. I knew I wasn’t taking care of my body. I debated between a head of broccoli or a can of chick peas.