A quick shoutout today to my friend Miranda Levenstein, whose latest blog post offers a cake recipe as remedy for Seasonal Affective Disorder. If I baked, I’d give it a whirl. It has to work better than the special SAD lamp I bought two years ago.
I should have known better. Whenever I fall for one of these magical, problem-solving gadgets, I think of my enormously fat ex-boyfriend (yes, the salsa dancer). When we were together, he came back from Italy (“It’ly”) with one of those electrode belt contraptions that vibrates and delivers mild shocks to your flab. He said, “all the guys in It’ly use these, and they have flat stomachs. It really works.” He would strap it on and give his fat an hour-long shock treatment while watching “Star Trek: Next Generation” and eating a carton of chow fun. After wearing the thing for 3 weeks, he had 6-pack abs.
Haha. No, he didn’t.
But I was really hoping this SAD lamp would live up to its promise, and keep my winter from being one long nap. I had visions of becoming that person who bounds out of bed and greets the sunrise, goes out for a run in the brisk January air, and then writes a novel. Instead, after sitting under the lamp for the recommended 45 minutes, I’d turn on the TV as usual and watch until I remembered to get out of my pajamas and take my afternoon shower.
The only thing the SAD lamp accomplished was making my husband sad. Because it looked sad. He took the ugly thing down to the basement and left it in the “up for grabs” corner.
So before you invest in one of those, I recommend the holistic approach of cake. Even if it doesn’t work, it’s probably a nice thing to eat before your nap. Don’t think you can burn it off with an electric belt, though.
You got it exactly right. The only cure for SAD is to eat yourself through the winter. Do as I do. At the first snowfall, start with Doritos and a big tub of sour cream. Then Pop Tarts. They have as many carbs as two plates of spaghetti- and carbs are very soothing. Then ice cream- the high fat kind. All that calcium is very soothing too. Then get in the car and go to IHOP. In fact, get a part-time job there for the discount. By the time spring rolls around, you be so deep in a food coma you’ll be on a ventilator.