It was a pampering day–mani/pedi and lunch with sister PJ. There is camaraderie in going to the nail salon together, even if we don’t get to chat while we there. Is it silly that it’s nice just to know that she’s there with me? I don’t think so. When I got home, I worked on an editing gig that I just got for a little while and then went with Hubs to supper and the grocery.
Weirdness–my appetite sorta sucks right now–this isn’t a complaint, just an observation. Nothing really sounds that good and for some reason, my aversion to sauces and dressings has gotten really, really bad. Like, please-please- keep-my-food-plain bad. The Chinese restaurant we went to put some kind of thick yellow sauce on my chicken and veggies and even though the chicken was lovely and the veggies were tender crisp, just like I like them, I could barely eat the dish because of the yellow sauce. I felt guilty when I refused a to-go box and the server wondered if I didn’t like my food. She was kind and told me that next time I could simply ask for sauce on the side, but it was another situation where I couldn’t just say, “No thank you.” I felt compelled to justify my choices. See? It’s me thinking I have to make everything okay for everyone. And this actually was a situation where it was fine to explain and make her feel okay, but I resented that I felt I had to. Just a sample of how convoluted and screwed up my mind is right now. Why is this still a big deal now–over four hours later? I don’t have to love everything I order in restaurant; it’s okay to say, “I don’t like sauce, so no, I don’t want to take it home.” And I’m fairly sure I didn’t ruin the server’s whole night.
Here’s the thing. I made a determination when I turned sixty that I was never, ever again going to eat something that didn’t look and taste absolutely delicious to me. I refuse to waste calories when there are so many things that I do love to eat. And I think that part of this whole effed-in-the-head thing I have going right now is that I’ve got this stupid fear that if I don’t do something about my size (which is too big, fyi), I’m going to die… like my sister. Bear in mind, Kate did not die because her ass was too large, so this is… yes… another freaking irrational fear about my physical self.
Know what? I’m going to try something new starting tomorrow–I’m going to eat only when I’m truly hungry and only food that is truly yummy to me. And if I’m craving something, I’m going to eat it, because here’s another thing that I’m starting to realize. Life is too fucking short to eat crappy food. Case in point: even though I’ve not been terribly hungry lately, I have been craving ice cream–real ice cream, not that lowfat stuff. So when we went to the grocery, I put a pint of Ben & Jerry’s in our cart. but by the time we headed for checkout, I’d talked myself out of B&J, taken it back, and switched it for the lowfat crap. Why? Guilt. My ass is big, so I don’t deserve B&J and if I want ice cream, well, all I should eat is the crappy stuff. I think that might be bullshit…
Five things I’m grateful for today:
- I have some work–a small job, but it’s work and I’m grateful.
- The purple grape hyacinths in the front garden are blooming.
- Mani/pedi with sister–it’s a good thing.
- Got to talk to Son–hearing his voice, knowing he’s well brings me peace.
- All the people in my life who care–thank you.