Gerald considered himself the embodiment of healthy living. He jogged every morning, owned seventeen reusable water bottles, and had opinions about quinoa that nobody asked for.
So when his doctor suggested he track his food intake, Gerald dove in with terrifying enthusiasm. He downloaded every nutrition app available and began logging each calorie with the dedication of a forensic accountant. An apple? Logged. A stick of gum? Logged. The air in a bakery he walked past? He genuinely considered it.
His coworkers customarily avoided the break room between noon and one o'clock, having learned the hard way that Gerald would corner anyone near the microwave and explain the glycemic index until their eyes glazed over completely.
The real trouble began when Gerald discovered that his apps disagreed with each other. One claimed a banana was 89 calories. Another said 105. A third offered 97 with what Gerald described as "suspicious confidence."
He spiraled immediately.
"Don't you see?" he announced to his thoroughly unimpressed cat, Mr. Fluffington, who was attempting to nap. "This single banana represents the entire macrocosm of nutritional uncertainty! If we cannot trust the banana, we cannot trust anything! The whole system is chaos!"
Mr. Fluffington yawned, stretched one leg toward the ceiling, and went back to sleep.
Gerald stared at the banana for a long moment.
Then he ate it.
It tasted, as bananas generally do, exactly like a banana. He logged it as 97 calories out of spite, closed all seventeen apps, and made a sandwich like a normal person.
Mr. Fluffington approved.