Munchie's Theorem

It's late in the evening. I'm home, relaxing and reading. Feeling good. Chillin'. Comfortable. Life is good.

Out of the blue they appear, like a wild beast suddenly materializing on the horizon. They spring into action and launch their attack.

The munchies.

Yes, a craving for something tasty. But I know I've already eaten three solid meals today, and I don't really need anything else. After all, late night snacks go straight to the waistline. So I ignore them, and keep on reading. But a few minutes later...

They're still here.

Looks like they mean business. Put my book down, walk to the kitchen, open the refrigerator door, and look inside. Hmmm. Nothing really tantalizing. Open the cupboard door. My eyes survey the scene, sweeping across and lingering over each foodstuff item, mentally weighing its potential to appease the munchies. Nope. The other cupboard? Nada. Well, that's okay, I'm not really that hungry. Back to my reading.

A few pages later. The cravings beckon me again. And who am I to ignore their call? Back to the kitchen. After all, I didn't really look that closely the first time. Maybe there's a good snack in there that I missed. So I open the fridge door again, inspecting each shelf a bit more thoroughly. What's that hiding behind the milk? Hmph. Just some cottage cheese. You think that's going to satisfy the munchies? No, sirree. Same story with the cupboards: I strike out again. A few mildly interesting items, to be sure, but nothing that will really hit the spot.

By the fifth time this scene has played itself out, I could draw from memory a perfectly accurate diagram of the inside of the fridge and cupboards. And yet, despite my knowing full well that what I will see when I open that fridge yet again is identical to what I am already seeing right now in my mind's eye, somehow, some vain sense of wild optimism propels me forward, as if the next time I open the fridge door, some delicious cold treat will be staring me in the face, that I somehow missed on the previous excursions. I am quite amused by how capable my mind can be at fooling itself.

Of course, there is another dynamic at work here. For on each subsequent trip to the kitchen, some of the items I see before me somehow seem a tad more appealing than the previous expedition. This is a corollary of Munchie's Theorem: there exists a direct linear correlation between the strength with which the munchies have struck me on a particular night and the probability that some item which barely caught my eye on my first kitchen inventory will eventually pass muster.

And so it goes, the Battle of The Munchies, one of life's quintessential moral struggles.