Reality Bites, or Much Longer Than My Last Post

Day 74
Down .4 of a pound

What a journey!

Had a dose of reality this past weekend. Sunday morning, after springing ahead--which my iPhone did, but my alarm clock didn't, which is odd because it's a docking station; this made me late for church, so I didn't go--reality slapped me right in the face. Now, if you haven't noticed, I do have a flair for the dramatic. So what I call "reality slapping me in the face," other people may just call--I don't know Sunday, Thursday, fill in your day here.

I snuggled in bed longer watching silly sitcoms, which I love, love, love, talking intermittently to the dogs. They were still on the "old time" and did not want to be disturbed. I checked Facebook, my texts, my email, my bank account. Blah blah blah blah. And then it hit. Like the anvils that used to fall on Wyle E. Coyote. I wanted whatever food was in the commercial that happened to be on, or whatever was on the show I was watching. Pizza. Spaghetti. Pop Tarts. Taco Bell. All 3 new flavors of Lays potato chips (so I could vote on my favorite one). Being bombarded with all of those commercials prompted me to make a list of everything I want to eat--RIGHT THEN! It was a bit of insanity.

So  I texted a good friend, who promptly told me that I wasn't craving anything, that it was an emotional need that needed filling. I hate it when he's logical. I don't know what I expected, "It's ok, Debb. Go get you a Big Mac, fries, and a Coke." He told me to journal about it. HE told ME to journal about it. What the heck?? Journaling, (My computer hates it when I make nouns into verbs.) writing is my thing, no one has to tell me when to write. I was a bit attitudenal; however I just thanked him. Blech. I covered my head and secretly plotted ways to derail myself--well, kind of.

At 3:00, I finally emerged from the bedroom and decided to get dressed, so I could drag my Godson with me to go grocery shopping for the week. I've always hated grocery shopping alone; it makes me lonely. (I know you mothers out there probably wish you could go alone.) I didn't want to make a list. Didn't want to think about what to cook. I was exhausted--planning what I was going to eat and when--I didn't want to do it. But, like my friend, Nicole, posts often on Facebook, "If you fail to plan, then plan to fail." Again, I say, "Blech!"

Uninspired, I picked up proteins and veggies that I knew I could do something with when the time came. Drew was wonderful, doing a lot of the label reading for me. In the end, I bought a lot of good stuff that will last a long time, rather than the two or three days' worth I typically picked up. I even remembered peanut butter, peanuts, beef jerky and--gulp--pork rinds for those on-the-go, need something snacky snacks. I had not eaten all day, and even after taking Drew home, I thought, "If I just go through the McDonald's drive-through and get a happy meal, it wouldn't hurt too much." But I resisted. It still wasn't as if I was craving it. The thought of eating it actually made me a bit nauseated. I wanted it because I knew I should eat, and I wanted something easy, familiar, comforting, and I didn't want to eat or think or do anything remotely good for me. Blech. . . .

I made the smart decision and went back home. I ended up making a casserole with lean hamburger, egg substitute, mushrooms, onions, sweet peppers, and cheese. It was enough for supper, today's lunch, and to freeze three nice-sized servings for later on. Having never cooked kale before, I decided to experiment. I wilted it in a pan with some onions, then splashed a little balsamic vinegar on it. It turned out really good. So, as I cleaned the kitchen (which I had not done for awhile) and packed lunch and snacks for today, I began to feel back into the swing of things. By the time I finished my last glass of water for the evening, and took my last supplement, things were back to normal.

So, I don't know what it was that caused me to feel apathetic and a bit self-destructive. I like to blame as much as I can on the time change. Or maybe my bio-rhythms were off. Or it may have been because I forgot to take my prescription meds--including the "crazy" pills--for three days. Whatever it was, I sure am glad that the cloud has lifted. I am proud that I resisted the emotional demon that made every greasy, fat-filled, carb-loaded food seem like manna to me. I am happy with the choices I made at the store, everything that went into the fridge or freezer, except the tuna, peanuts, avocado and peanut butter (because if your food can't go bad, then it can't be good for you). It doesn't always go smoothly. I gush a lot about how great I'm doing and feeling. All that is real--remember, full disclosure. But yesterday, I hit a rock on my journey, and I kicked it out of the way and continued on. That, my friends, is a good feeling!