Lunch: Culver's bacon burger, sweet potato fries, diet cola, root beer float
Dinner: Nothing - amended to add blueberry yogurt
Back home. Had a good breakfast, except for the toast and hash browns. My intentions were good, but not good enough. Lunch was on the trip home and, frankly, there really is not any reasonable menu choice for seriously healthy eating. There was one salad choice that I could see, and it was some berry thing. They may have others, but I could not find any on the menu board whilst I was waiting in line, and since the lines were full of our coach members as well as the hapless locals that decided to eat when we were there, I was reluctant to engage in conversation with the counter staff about making modification to what I did see. In my defense, I did not choose the grilled reuben sandwich, something I wanted very much since we were rushed at lunch on the trip up yesterday and I was able to eat only some of the inside of the reuben I ordered then. I think I forgot to mention that. Sad, really, because it was made with homemade marble rye bread. I will bet it was delicious.
I did fall victim to the fries, but they were of a kinder, gentler potato. I have absolutely no defense for the float, except that it was the smallest size. Truth be told, I did not much enjoy the burger. It had too much processed cheese and mayonnaise on it. I scraped as much off as I could and then did not eat the last quarter of the thing anyway. The float disappointed, as well. Huh.
The tour director passed out more candy, chips and peanuts on the way home and I asked her if her final offering was going to be insulin. She thought it only mildly amusing and I am guessing that was only because a fellow traveler laughed and she was trying to be a good sport to my smart-ass-ed-ness.
I ate the little bag of chips, but not the rest. Still, no dinner for me. Rats, I still have to take my meds and they need to be taken with food, so it will have to be the little yogurt with blueberries. You know, if I do not start taking this healthy thing seriously, I am going to end up worse off than when I began over a month ago. Hell, I am nearly halfway through the process and the only weight I have lost is where I did not want to lose any. Sure, I do have one less chin and less flab in a couple of places. Big deal. Small victories, nearly insignificant in the larger war. I seem to lack the will to do this getting healthier thing. I sense sabotage from within. A decidedly bigger deal.
As for feeling, well, I felt well during the weekend. No stress, no thinking about stuff. The new pain med worked great and my hips and knees did not bother me a bit until it was close to time for the next dose. I could take another one now, but I am going to try to fall asleep without it, thinking that being back in my own, comfy bed will be enough to help me fall right to sleep.
I am feeling kind of cranky because it is steaming in here. I will manage. Two days away from everything should be two more notches on my Belt Of Courage. I need to be more brave and every little bit helps. I worried that these little trips were an attempt to escape from the here, but I think, I believe that they are steps towards being more self-sufficient and less dominated and afraid.
On the way home, it was raining and I spent a lot of time looking out of the window at all the lovely countryside. And, I kept thinking, oh, I could live there...and there...and that place...even there in the little town that flashed by. I want so much to be somewhere, anywhere else. Cannot do it. The whole running away from things thing. I have to find a way to live here, with everything, or I will never be able to settle somewhere else with comfort and confidence and the surety that comes from making the right decision at the right time and for the right reason. I have the right reason, in spades, but the right time can come only when I have worked through all of this crap. Just have to pull up my big girl panties and do it. I need some serious therapy and have for a long time. Wonder how to fit that in the budget, under the travel, of course, which is a sort of therapy of it's own.
I knit a wash cloth and the body and one sleeve of a really tiny sweater. I think that it will end up being only two inches square, or not much more than that. I am using four, 000 needles. Very small and I have to really pay attention because whilst it is fairly easy to un-knit with larger needles and yarn, I am also using a very fine yard that is intended for making stretch socks. My eyes finally gave out on that grey-skied, rainy ride home.
GP, which is kind of like the icing on the guilty pleasure of these little trips.
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