I'm sure you can relate to being roused from bed at an obscene hour of the wee dawn to catch a flight.  Still in delirium, you pass the finish line, so to speak, of actually making it to the airline terminal and checking in on time. But then you are faced with an even more difficult dilemma. Your stomach is rumbling and your brainpower failing: It's time to feed the machine. But what among the paltry, undercooked, and overpriced items here in the terminal can you stand to actually to put in your mouth?

Your food choices at this critical juncture will determine your energy level and mood for the rest of your travel day (and play a big role in whether you'll be cranky and constipated when you wake up tomorrow).

As someone who passes in and out of airports up to 10 times a month (with all my connecting flights), I'm happy to share what little expertise I have on the subject.  Honestly, it's still hit and miss for me, but check out this food diary of the bad decisions I made on my way from New York to the British Virgin Isles, and either learn something from my mistakes or send me your analysis of where I went so terribly wrong.

American Airlines Terminal, JFK Airport, New York, 6:05 a.m.:

I'm practically sleepwalking at this point and suddenly spy a familiar and fragrant "happy place": Starbucks.  Yay! I stand in line behind flight crews and my mouth waters at the idea of a Venti soy latte with sugar-free vanilla syrup.  But if I have that, I'll have to pee like a racehorse (and I'm in a window seat) the whole flight, or it might inspire an explosive bout of digestive unrest. Plus, coffee adds to the already desert-like dehydration of flying all day.  I opt for a $5 Tazo soy chai latte, but it's so sweet, I can feel the early-onset diabetes manifesting in my blood.  I also skip the luscious-looking maple scone, fearing a white-flour carb-crash.  But in retrospect, what would have been so bad about being passed out on the three-hour flight to San Juan, Puerto Rico?

Instead, I head to KidFresh, an open-air stand near my gate.  I think the concept here was originally to provide kid-friendly snacks for flights, which is fine by me since I generally like cheddar Goldfish and strawberry yogurt in a tube.  But actually it's even better than that: They have Lara Bars, all-natural potato chips, Face Greek yogurt with honey, and organic Green & Black's chocolate.  Even at twice the price of Whole Foods, I buy it all plus a very important LARGE bottle of water for about $22.  You MUST drink extra water on a long flying day.  But I skip the fruit (can't take it into another country) and the really tempting sandwiches and salads, because it's just too early to think about savory food.  Dumb move.  That tuna sandwich, even full of mercury, would have been a saving grace later.

American Airlines terminal, Luis Munoz Marin Airport, San Juan, Puerto Rico, 1 p.m.:

So, three-and-a-half hours later, I've had nothing of substantial nutritional value and am now in the culinary wasteland of the airport in Puerto Rico.  There's something about being stuck in an airline cabin with limited freedoms that makes me want to overeat, but actually, you'll feel tons better if you eat light and skip the anesthetizing booze.

Of course, I don't take my own advice.  I was starving (or felt I was) and starting to feel mean and slightly unhinged.  I've traveled with other people who get teary or sleepy when hungry, but not me: I get hostile and irrational, and that's not a great place to be operating from in a foreign country.  So I bought a packet of Lay's potato chips to hold me over until I found better options.  In the US, plain Lay's don't have any trans fats following a New York law that bans those artery-clogging culprits, which signals a country-wide movement against them. But I noticed my $2 packet was stamped with an EXPORT seal.  Yes, people, we are exporting our trans fats to Third World countries now, and if you miss them, you can get them in airports.

I passed up the dark sports bar/restaurant that looked smokey and ended up in BREEZES, a forced-cheerful pink, yellow, and aqua hole-in-the-wall serving the kind of American fare you'd expect at a TGI Fridays.  I had just read the cover story about fast food in Conde Nast's new Portfolio magazine, and as I scanned the menu, I felt repulsed by the burgers and fried chicken I knew would be chock-full of chemicals (like growth hormones and flavor-enhancing additives).  So unlike my male colleague, who was thinking of stabilizing protein and ordered a steak, I ended up with the $10 "747 fries": French fries smothered in cheese, sour cream, and diced tomatoes.  It wouldn't have been so bad, except that the "cheese" was that bright-orange, oily, fake stuff, and full of chemicals and trans fats anyway.

I hadn't really given my body much to run on, I hadn't avoided fried foods or empty calories, and I certainly hadn't steered clear of chemicals or gotten good value for my money.  It seemed there really was no way to win at this game (except to buy and pack your own meals and snacks from home the night before your trip!).  And with that self-defeating thought, I indulged in a temporarily mood-altering strawberry daiquiri that at least put a smile on my face for the rest of my layover.