In New Orleans I started smelling food I can't eat. It began with biegnets. Yesterday it was the pizza Jenn made for the boys. Today at a work meeting (with colleagues I know well, so they didn't think I was too weird) I sniffed a tray of cookies not once but four times. I liked it. I wasn't tempted to eat any. It let me feel like I could enjoy them without causing myself personal injury. I'll compare it to sitting in the driver's seat of a car I'll never drive.