100 Days toward a healthier life - Day 44

Breakfast:  Lean Cuisine dinner, pecan chicken something, I think
Lunch:  3 natural hot dogs, mustard, canned beets
Dinner:  Cashews, 2 crackers with peanut butter on them

I spent today using as few calories as possible.  Both of my legs hurt from all of the walking this weekend.  Swollen and sore, joints and muscles.  So, it seemed to be a good idea to not eat very much.  I am not counting calories, but I have done so for most of my adult life, and I estimate that there were somewhere around 900 of them in today's foods.  That seems close enough.  I could check, but then I would have to use some of those calories to haul myself out of this chair and go look.  Rats.  I just checked and it was 1150 calories.  Too many to even think about having lost any tonnage.  Even though that, the weight, is not supposed to be my focus, it is disheartening to find that today was most likely, at best (a hopeful best), a draw in the in and out department.  F.  (I am trying to not curse.)

Tomorrow is not going to help any.  It is a day of volunteering for the big city near me.  It is part of their summer employment training program for young people.  We did all of the interviewing weeks ago and their training began today with a week's worth of orientation.  I have not any idea what they did today, but tomorrow is like a job fair, if you know what is.  Each of the tables/stations will not be hosted by potential employers, but with information and help related to finances, how to choose a job category (like that is even possible these days, but bless their hearts for building the concept into the program), and all of the expenses that are part of living.  Housing, health care/insurance, vehicles, clothing, household expenses, families, pets, the whole works.  They will have to set up an actual savings and checking accounts with representatives of a local credit union (like a bank), do the paperwork for a 401k account and a lot more.  It should be interesting, especially since they did not notify the volunteers that they were chosen to participate (that would be me and other hapless souls), and aside from arriving a half hour before the participants, there does not seem to be any training that I can tell. 

They are going to give us a light breakfast, whatever the hell that means.  My guess is that it will be coffee and donuts.  My guess is that I will try to get up extra early and make some eggs, or that I will dilly-dally and have to drive-through for some more of those yummy breakfast sandwiches and a big, steaming cup of fairly decent coffee.  Honestly, tomorrow is laundry day, so it is more important to get a load running before I leave home.  There is a lunch offering, but I am guessing that it is more of the same sub sandwiches, chips, cookies, canned soft drinks and other snack things.  So, I will probably be skipping that as well and getting one of those great salads from Wendy's.  I hate to miss that part, though, because sitting around with the other volunteers is a great resource opportunity for me.  Those people are all professionals and I have much to learn from them that could help me with my clients. 

It really is a surreal experience.  There they all are, HR people, executives, radio personalities, and then there is me.  The same thing used to happen to me when I was part of the RIF (Reading is Fundamental) program in the elementary schools in another big city near me.  Doctors, lawyers, police officers, bank officials, veterinarians, businessmen of all kinds.  Then, me.  I am hoping it means that they keep asking me to do these things because they believe that I have something to offer, but it is very humbling to be in the company of such important people.

I should have enough time to come home, toss in more laundry, maybe heat up another of those frozen diet meals and get going to pick up one of my women, who has a doctor's appointment in the afternoon.  Then home again, to shower, wash hair and do one last load of linens, since I am nearly out of clean towels.

On a more personal note, something sad happened today.  The woman who owns the gallery has been expecting some important mail and was not certain if it would come to her place here or the one in another state, which is where she is now.  Something did come last week, and I called her to let her know that it was there and had to leave a message on her voice mail. 

I hate voice mail.  You never know if someone is going to check or if it actually will be there when they do check or some damn thing.  I do not have it, so I always figure that no news is good news, which in my life is pretty much the case.  But, she does have it and she was concerned and I called and left a message.  She did not call back, even though I left my phone on until after midnight.  She knew that I was out of town, but did not call in to ask for more information, which, frankly, I would not have had because I did not open the mail.

This afternoon I heard my phone beeping and when I checked, there were two messages.  Apparently, my friend was not able to reach anyone who could check on the darn mail (there are four of us) and was frantic worrying about what it was.  So, being the good boyfriend that he is, her boyfriend (I digress, but I love that us older babes can still have boyfriends and actually call them that.) called my cell phone and left a stunning message about how upset she was and then made a couple of mild threats.  Yeah, stunning.  I was guessing that the second message was also from him, adding the few things he might have missed saying in the first message, but it was from my friend, who assured me that I had done the right thing and not to worry.  This was later followed by another call from her, where she raged about all kinds of things and the bottom line is that I was the recipient of a whole bunch of frustration about a whole bunch of things. 

I think I have to be finished there, at the gallery.  I am not looking forward to seeing her boyfriend again, although I will miss seeing her.  I have Thursday off and think that I might take the morning to gather my work and leave my keys there.  She is in another state and I am the only person who keeps the gallery open during the week, so I will not risk running into anyone.  This is all too complicated and today was kind of scary.  No, it was a lot scary and I have enough to deal with in my own life, without taking on the pathology of another relationship. 

I am really going to miss going there.  I like welcoming people and talking about the art there and just art in general.  I like having my stuff there and having people like it and sometimes buy some of it.  Yeah, that extra money is nice.  It paid for most of my traveling.  I will miss the other artists and the, gosh, so wonderful discussions we have, and the musicians that drop by to play and I will even miss the street people who stop in to chat a while.  I am going to miss all of it so much.  Even on slow days, there is hardly a more lovely place to sit and knit or read or just sit.  I can still do art stuff, and I still exhibit other places, but this place, this gallery, was special.  It still is special, it is just that I will no longer be a part of it.

Well, you cannot have everything, but it was a little piece of heaven in contrast to much of the rest of my life.  Everything comes to an end of some sort and I have to allow myself to experience this break and be patient for the next thing that might come along.  You know, if I were still busy with the gallery, I might miss that next thing or things.  So, in the end, big picture and all, it is a good thing.  Sad, but ultimately good.  I hope.

So, aside from the food issue, not a bad day.  Well, I guess it sort of was, but I am not going to dwell on it.

What's left?  Ah, GP.  I have a bunch of hearts in the guilty pleasure realm and after the happenings of the past couple of weeks, I need all the hearts I can get, so that is what it will be for the next week or so.  Hearts.  Some of them are on the dark side, but I guess that is appropriate, as well.

What the hell happened to being all light and happy about this?  You know, my intent was to stop complaining all the damn time, but I seem to be stuck on the pain and not able to concentrate on the gain, gaining of better health and a more healthy attitude and outlook.  That is/was my goal, if I actually had goals, I mean.  I kind of suck, yes?  Yes, I do.  I am sorry, I do not mean to be so sucky.

100 Days toward a healthier life - Day 33

Breakfast:  Nothing
Lunch:  Tater Tots, chocolate
Dinner:  Bag of salad, kind of large tomato, salad dressing

The Tots were eaten over several hours, a whole plate, as in an actual plate, of them.  They are just as good cold as when piping hot from the oven, or at least pretty close.  When I finished them, I had some 86% cocoa mass chocolate, and some lemonade that I made from frozen lemon juice and Splenda.

I am trying to keep a decent perspective about this eating thing, but I really should be ashamed of how badly I eat some days.  Even I know that I have to create and follow a more balanced and reasonable way of eating, you know, like a decent diet, for crying out loud. 

You know, I go to the store and I look at all the food and try to buy stuff that I will actually eat and that will not, ultimately, get tossed into the garbage because I am too tired and tired out to cook the damn stuff.  There is still too much waste going on around here.  It is not like I have a ton of money and a complete lack of conscience that would facilitate not feeling so freaking guilty about all of this.

I need to buy food.  I need to eat it.  It is as simple as that.  And, yet, it is not.  It is supremely difficult and complicated to do.  I think that is why, heck, I know that it is why I am eating out several times each week.  I know that there is not any reasonably easy to cook food at home and so I go to a restaurant and have a nice, healthy meal and it satisfies me because I know that there will not be any waste.  If I stop at the market, there is an excellent chance that I will be too exhausted to actually cook what I have just bought by the time I get home and drag myself and everything else into the house.  This totally sucks.

I tried buying just frozen stuff, like meals and parts of meals, things that are already cooked and just need heating in the microwave.  I guess that is how the Tater Tots got into the freezer.

Unfortunately, there is not all that much in the realm of frozen foods that are as healthy as anyone, especially old and diabetic me, would prefer.  More than a month ago I bought a package of pre-formed beef patties.  All you have to do is to take one of the things out of the bag and cook it in a frying pan.  You do not even have to thaw them, just grab them frozen.  Seriously, that is all you have to do.  I think that you can also broil them or bake them in the oven, but those things are more steps than I can handle most days.

I have a pound of asparagus in the refrigerator right now.  I have, probably, two more days before I will have to trash it and all I have to do to eat them is to wash, snap the end, pop into a roasting pan, sprinkle and roll them around in a bit of olive oil, sprinkle with salt and bake them for a half hour.  As simple as that is, they are still likely to be tossed.  That is how little energy I have.  I can sit here and type.  I can rest and read.  But, that is all that I can manage most days here at home.  I am busy enough on my out-of-the-house days that I need the opportunity to rest and gather my strength.  Man, even to me that sounds so pathetic and excuse-laden.

I have to fix this.  I have to figure out a way to eat properly, not waste food and to spend as little as possible.  I just have to figure this out.  Even today was supposed to be a day of catching up and that seemed like it might happen after a neighbor cancelled our lunch plans.  But, it was just another day of feeling crappy, so I did very little and tried very hard to not take a nap.  Which, I did not.  Maybe I should go back to my doctor and throw myself on her mercy and ask for happy drugs or, hell, I do not know how to properly explain how tired I am all the time, much less figure out how to ask for help.

So, there is nothing left except Guilty Pleasure.  Shell Game.  I like the colors.

100 Days toward a healthier life - Day 27

Breakfast:  Eggs
Lunch:  Subway roast beef, provolone, lots of veggies, no dressing or mustard or other junk
Dinner:  Steak, meatloaf, green beans, mixed vegetables, carrots, sugar-free fudge frozen thing, 3 cans of diet orange soda

So, anyway, the day went well, until the friend who is, I guess not my friend showed up.  We had a brief conversation and I left because it just makes me so sad and I keep pulling up my big girl panties and trying to move beyond this and, gosh, I just cannot pull those panties up any further without risking a trip to the emergency room.

Why is this so difficult for me?  I am foolish.  I really am.  I should not be caring about someone who is willing to fuck me over without a second thought and who finds it amazing that I would have the nerve to be sensitive about it.  You know, I just have to wonder why I even care about this.  And, this goes way beyond betrayal and marginalization and all that stuff.  Like I said, foolish, that is me.

So, I am driving home and I have a huge craving for ice cream.  I think about stopping for a cone or something at Dairy Queen, but it is not on my way home and I think that I will stop at the grocery store to buy some.  I start in saying, aloud, that I deserve to be healthy and I deserve to be slimmer and weigh less and deserve to have healthy lungs and heart and deserve to have less pain in my knees, hip and feet and I deserve to be healthy.

I stop at the grocery store and I fill my cart with diet soft drinks.  Orange (cans), cola (bottles) and three kinds of diet Snapple, all fruit flavors.  Next stop is the meat case where I buy three steaks, on sale and lots cheaper than the amount of ice cream that I would be more than happy to eat.  Meat is next to the bakery.  How mean is that?  I walk past it, gazing longingly at the breads and death by chocolate cake and lemon bars and fruit tarts and tolero rolls and triple chocolate muffins and croissants.  Lordy.  There were other things that I do not even like and they looked great, too.  But, I kept on walking to the dairy section to get more eggs.  Coming around the front end I pass the liquor department and think, "Oh, a nice glass of bourbon would be nice," and I finally cave and turn right into the frozen treat aisle.  I look at all of it and grab a box of sugar-free fudge things.

Then, I go directly to the check-out lanes, tossing two 86% cocoa chocolate bars on top of everything else, pay for my stuff and go home.  Narrow escape, yes?  No.  Once home, I broil the steak, cook some frozen green beans, portion out some of the steak for the cats, sprinkle a little fleur de sel on the rest and eat.  Really, really good, mostly because I did not, for once, overcook the meat.

Half an hour later I am starving, so I get one of those fudge things.  Twenty minutes later I am starving so I have two cans of that orange soda and a couple of ounces of tumbled carrots.  Finishing the last can, I am starving.  It has now been ninety minutes since I had dinner and I am hungry.  I go and stand in front of the refrigerator, just daring myself to open it.  I do not, but I do open the freezer.  I take out some frozen meatloaf and a little baggie of mixed vegetables, leftovers from who know when, nuke them, eat them and wait.  I have another orange soda.  I wait.  It has now been two hours and I think that I am finally finished eating for the night.  Another orange soda, just opened, to take my meds. 

For dinner I ate two portions of steak (half was supposed to be for lunch tomorrow), a portion of meat loaf, four portions of vegetables, a frozen fudge thing and am now on my 4th soda.  Good freaking grief.

And, why?  Because I am heartsick at this whole, stoopid friend thing and I am a freaking emotional eater.  This is why I need to join a program or get a therapist or some damn thing. 

You know, I recognized that I was over-reactive and hungry because I was upset on the drive home.  I planned on healthy food and bought mostly that, if you discount the chocolate (which I still have not eaten, by the way, and have no desire for) and the diet sodas.  I did all kinds of positive self-talk and affirmed the crap out of myself and I still was ravenous to fill that empty space and fill it I did, with food.  I am fine now, but when it was happening I was frantic with hunger. 

I am not a kid.  I am smart enough to figure this out, with or without a group or program or shrink.  I am.  I am hoping that tonight was some kind of liminal experience and that I learned whatever I was intended to learn and that I can hold on to whatever that was.  I feel like I am running in circles, a bit of forward movement, but not straight ahead, rounding back on myself to begin again, over and over.  I want this 100 days to be a time for developing new habits, ones that will serve me instead of serving me cake and chips and dip.  Tonight felt like a fail when I was caught in its thrall, but now it feels like a gift.

I can do this.  I can...I can...I can.  I am.  I believe in myself, even if there is not anyone else who does.  I deserve this getting healthier thing.  I do.

GP, interestingly enough, is supportive of this.  Huh.

100 Days toward a healthier life - Day 26

Breakfast:  Eggs
Lunch:  Japanese place, usual
Dinner:  Sushi

Lunch today was the usual healthy stuff there, not as much fruit, but some noodles and rice.  Our waiter mentioned that I never order any rice or noodles and asked why.  I told him that there was too much carbs, they were not so great for me and that when I start eating them that I begin to crave them and that simply avoiding them was better all round. 

When he brought our food, he had a small plate with some cellophane noodles that had been sautéd with green onions, surimi and a bit of egg, and rice, again sautéd, but with fresh edamame, onions and green beans.  Like some robotic people-pleaser, I tried them and eventually ate most of it.  You know, I am accustomed to ordering just enough food to satisfy without stuffing myself, like I almost always did before starting this thing.  I never clean my plate anymore, well, most of the time.  And, it is working.  I am satisfied by making careful food choices whenever possible, eating enough to keep me going, stopping eating before I feel full and drinking lots of water during the day.  I cannot remember when I last felt the urge to eat anything between meals.  I bought some of my favorite chocolate more than a month ago and have not felt more than the merest desire to eat any, and resisting even that. 

So, all in all, I am doing well.  I feel the urge to weigh myself on occasion, but since I did not do that at the beginning, it would not be all that helpful, since I am not keeping track.  I am paying attention to portions, although not considering what calories they might contain.  That part is probably foolish, but it has not been a problem...yet.  If I am forced to keep track of calories, I will do it, but I will not be very happy about it; my reasoning being that I have no intention of counting calories for the rest of my life.  I am trying to think long term.

I wonder how responsible I am being with all of this.  I think about how I might be pandering to some screwed-up notions about what becoming healthier means to me, particularly in relation to all of the recent health issues. 

Anyway, it got me to thinking about responsibility.  I had a client yesterday with some particularly difficult personal and legal issues that are having a serious consequence where new employment is concerned.  It is certainly none of my business, and I am not judging him, but he is staunchly avoiding taking responsibility for some of the things that brought him to this point.  If that is where he is, then that is where he is.  The difficulty is that I can do and help only so much unless the other person does their part of the work.  So, we are kind of stuck, and I offered to have an extra session with him this morning.  Thursday is not one of my regular days there, so I had to rearrange my schedule to accommodate his.

He never showed up.  Yesterday, as he was leaving, he joked that I had better be there when he showed up.  It was kind of funny, because he was comfortable joking with me after only one session.  So, anyway, I waited for him.  He was not late, he just never came, nor did he call.  I waited thirty minutes, packed up my stuff, and left.  Now, I have a policy about not calling people to remind them of their appointments or calling to find out why someone is late.  I know that medical offices do this all the time, but they have to maintain tight schedules and make as certain as possible that their patients actually show up and not waste the time that could be given to another patient.

I do not have that scheduling and attendant financial aspect.  Besides, I think that if you cannot show up, maybe developing some good habits along the way, how are you going to be responsible to show up for work every day.  It is difficult enough to find a job and it is in one's best interest to be responsible and to inform prospective employers that you have some commitment and dedication to being reliable.  He will call and make another appointment and will likely show up, but I will not be offering any additional, off-schedule time to him.  No more coming in on my day off.  And, it is too bad, because I know that I could be of significant assistance to him.  However, I cannot make anyone want or use what I have to offer.

Oh, in honor of my second anniversary doing this work, I am ordering some business cards.  I am trying very hard to not tart them up, though.  I will be working on knitting more wash cloths tomorrow at the gallery.  Maybe when my friend comes in to fuck me over again I can point my needles at him and say, "Hey, friend, you got no power over me, so just go work your mean mojo somewhere else.  My heart is enough to hold you and give back, but taking crap is no longer what I do."  Fine.  I will not say that or anything close to it.  Still have to find a way to help that world go away.  Get it off of my shoulder.

I came home, worked a bit, read a bit and took a nap.  Very nice.  Then, just an hour ago I had the California Roll that I brought home from the restaurant.  Very nice. 

All in all, a great day.  Still coughing like a bitch, although my ear feels better.  It might be time to find a new allergy doctor.  I have not needed one for decades, but this icky illness stuff has to be allergies.  Sort of like being responsible to myself, especially in this journey to better health. 

Guilty Pleasure for today.  Heart enough to hold and give:

 I am a foolish person.  I am not saying that is bad or anything, although it probably is, bad that is.  It is just who I am most of the time lately.   My preference would be lighthearted, joyful, pleasant, sweet and fun-loving.  I can get there, be those things, but often I just miss my marks and am foolish by default.  I guess that it is better than cranky or bitchy.  It is just that people may enjoy the antics of a fool, but they just do not take them seriously.  You know?

100 Days toward a healthier life - Day 22

Breakfast: 2 small peaches, eggs two hours later
Lunch:  Scallops, grilled vegetables, spiced apple ring, baked potato (butter, sour cream), roll, mint ice cream, decaf coffee
Dinner:  Steak, cherries

Wow, when I look back over this diary, I am kind of amazed at the kinds of foods that I am eating.  They are, almost to a one, of higher quality than what I was putting in my body three weeks ago.  I mean, good seafood and a steak, not bad.  It is taking funds away from my big travel plans, but I am happy to stay home and eat great food in the business of becoming healthier.  A fine trade-off and plan, all around. 

My previous diet was heavy on carbohydrates, brown rice, whole wheat pasta and bread, oatmeal, beans, lentils, popcorn, with only the occasional meat.  Lots of soups and slow cooker meals, still mostly carbs.  It was cheap and filling.  It was also terrible for someone who has diabetes, and that someone would be me.  I have been having problems with dairy for a long time.  Milk, ice cream and cheese nearly always gave me serious gastrointestinal distress.

Factor in all of the drive-through meals, taken and eaten on the run because it really is difficult to plan ahead for carry along meals based on my old, regular diet, and it is a wonder I had just the one heart thing.  You know, eventually I will find a way to say and write the real word for what happened, but for now it is the heart thing.  I should be troubled by an inability to move beyond being so vague and indirect and avoiding about it, but I am not.  Troubled, that is, not in the least.  I am curious about why that is, but not enough to actually get any forward movement going there.  This attitude is likely to come and bite me in the ass, but not today.

Even though I am not keeping track, anyone could see that there were simply and plainly too many calories eaten today.  The portions were good, but there was a serious glut of butter, and there really is not any excuse for the ice cream.  Lunch was at 2 and dinner at 9.  Both late and both times I was hungry.  I will have to return to some kind of snacking when meals are going to be late like this.  Carrying around a zipper bag of raw almonds should help there.

So, I finally figured out that writing here and saving as a draft is, oh, I do not know, like saving as a draft.  There have been a couple of times when something caught in my craw and because I am dedicated to writing in this diary at the end of the day, most of those things or issues are long forgotten by the time I stumble in here to spew.  Granted, most of them are best left forgotten, but there is the occasional something or other that is worth reminding myself.

Anyway, I called my chatty, story-telling friend yesterday (one of the ss women) to ask her to lunch.  I had decided that keeping our outings short, as in less than the usual 10-12 hours would go a long way to reducing the problems.  Now, this part seems awfully manipulative, and that is probably because it is.  But, if I limit the time I spend taking her places to a reasonable length, then there will not be sufficient time for her to feel the need to fill the time with the same stories, and the same demands that I chime in with opinions.  I estimate that 3 hours is long enough for lunch or dinner and a stop at the market so that she can get some groceries.  The market could be replaced by the pharmacy, it is totally her choice.

We are trying that this afternoon.  She was not sure that she could make it today, so we spoke again this morning.  She really want to do this on Thursday, but that means another very long day.  I am going to stand firm on not doing that anymore.  All right, maybe I will cave and do that with her once a month or something.  But, not every week and certainly not twice in a week.  Today I told her that I had 3 hours for lunch and/or shopping and that she could choose what we did and where I took her.

It should have worked, but I underestimated her dedication to staying out and about as long as possible and her ability to stretch events to their fullest.  We did not have the 3 hours.  It was 4 1/4 from the time I picked her up until I dropped her off.  It would have been longer, but I finally walked away from all of the last minute things she needed to share with me.

O.K., there were two times today when I felt like a jerk, a heel, a selfish bitch, a terrible person.  The first was after two hours at the restaurant when I mentioned that there was still grocery shopping to be done.  The second was during the shopping when my protesting joints would not leave me alone and I checked out my crap and waited at the front of the store for her to finish.  Now, in my defense, I did not tell her about the pain and I did tell her that she should and could take as much time as she liked to finish.  She was another 30 minutes and I sat and read a magazine.  She wants to do this again on Thursday and Saturday.  I just cannot.  They will be longer days and I just do not have the energy and time now.  Yeah, the selfish bitch rears her terrible, jerky head again.  Too bad.  I cannot keep doing this.

What else...I guess that is all.  Oh, I heard the best linked stories program today on NPR. Had I been wearing socks, it would have totally knocked them off.  I am trying, right now, to download the mp3 version so that I can listen to it over and over.  There was so much information that I could not grasp all of it.

WPR
To the best of our knowledge
The Examined Life
Examined Life - James Miller
Growing Up Jung - Micah Toub
Bipolar Memories - Aubrey Ralph
Science of Self - David Eagleman
Life of Montaigne - Sarah Bakewell

Then, tonight I watched the screen adaption of Ishiguro's Never Let Me Go.  Holey-moley, what an amazing film.  Certainly, not exactly the book, but that movie did not a single thing to disgrace the original version.

Those two experiences, in the same day, were, still are, amazing.  Got to pay better attention to the stuff coming into my life.  I can be a better person if I just pay attention, listen, learn, take it all in and manifest it back out again.  I am also feeling marginally better, but that is preferable to moving backwards.  Fersure.

GP, yesterday's bran muffin.

100 Days toward a healthier life - Day 21

Breakfast:  Eggs, steak, fruit, freaking bran muffin
Lunch:  Lobster, cauliflower, yogurt dip
Dinner:  Cauliflower, yogurt dip

So, anyway, Saturday is coffee and breakfast with my friends.  It used to be just coffee, but we ran out of just plain coffee shops and started going to places where they serve more than muffins and bagels and stuff like that.  I think that I am quitting the group because two of them are so rude to the wait staff and all complainy and generally being pains in the ass. It is uncomfortable all of the time, and downright embarrassing some of the time.  No one will say anything to either of them, and I am no exception, mostly because I do not want anyone else to call me out on any of my crap.  One of them is late for everything.  Really, everything.  Yet, each week she complains to us and sometimes to a waiter about how long it takes for her to get her food.  This one makes me laugh...a lot...because she groused about how it took ten minutes for her to get her pot of tea, even after the waiter shared with her that it was taking a little longer to be prepared.  Yeah, she is mostly amusing; so is the other woman.  I like them so much, but really, the Universe does not revolve around any of us, particularly in a busy restaurant.  Yes?  Aw, more likely I am being too critical, to judgmental, to much of a bitch.  Either way, staying home will be better for everyone.

I guess that will eliminate the muffin issue I faced today.  The place they chose does not have any à la carte items.  You have to order a whole, pre-designed meal.  You can try to ask to not have some of the items, like fried or hashed potatoes, toast, English muffins and regular muffins, but they sometime bring them to the table anyway.  I am guessing that bringing everything eliminates any fuss from their customers about paying for a whole meal and not ordering all of it's components.  So, they give you everything and you get to decide if you want to eat it.

Yeah, great solution to bartering customers, but there is that toast or some kind of muffin sitting there, a little glossy on top, raisins poking out from the branny and delicious smelling goodness.  My goodness.  I offered the muffin to the table, but because all of them got their whole meal, there were no takers, not even to take it home for later.

I ate my eggs and the tiny, rare, tender steak.  I nibbled at the sliced and diced fruit, then ate most of it.  I drank cup after cup of coffee (easy to do as they leave pots of it at the table), hoping to fill myself up so that there would be no room for muffins.  Man.  There was room for muffins.  I ate nearly half of it.  It was wonderful, nice and crumbly because of all the bran, just enough raisins.  But, it also had sugar in it, and some regular flour to hold it all together.  No bliss there.

Even worse than eating half is that I brought the other half home and ate it mid-afternoon, although I am counting it as breakfast.

Why, after three weeks of this do I have such a ridiculously low amount of self control?  I suck.  Really.

Alrighty, then, the lobster.  I have been tossing out too much food that has gone bad waiting for me to cook it.  I could pack those things away in the freezer, but I have only a small, bottom of the fridge freezer and it is already full of food that I never cooked and have socked away in there so that I would not have to throw it in the garbage.  Now, if I would actually thaw some of that crap and cook it, there would be room for more potential garbage, but I do not thaw and cook for the very same reason that all of that stuff ended up in the freezer in the first place.

I run out of energy to do much actual cooking.  For a while, I was buying frozen meals when they were on sale and eating those.  It was great.  They start off in the freezer and they eventually get eaten and there is no waste.  But, then I decided to eat more healthy food and that is why the freezer is at full capacity.

My solution is to shop for just a couple of days at a time.  So far it is working fine.  I have thrown away only some leftovers and some greens that went all wonky.  It means more stops on the way home from work and stuff, but that is not a problem, except when my energy fails and it is too difficult to stop, shop and haul my sorry behind in and out of the store.  For those days, I have filled a small shelf with canned soup, microwave popcorn and crackers.  There is iceberg lettuce, apples and some kind of hardy vegetable in the refrigerator almost all of the time, just to give the healthy food thing some credibility.

Got all my bases covered.

The  larder here was pretty empty.  Condiments, sugar-free syrups (for making plain water more appealing), pre-cooked bacon, and some cilantro is what was in there.  So, I stopped at a market on the way home from coffee this morning.  They were having a sale on lobster.  You paid $10 for one, about a pound each I guess, they cooked it for you in these huge cauldrons in front of the store, chilled them in ice water and you were set to go.

It was really good, that poor dead creature.  It was perfectly cooked and I ate everything edible, including the coral, which I really like.  It was a late lunch, after 3:00, but so filling and satisfying, juicy and, like, perfect.  So, not hungry much at dinner, and more cauliflower and some yogurt with ranch dressing powder was fine.

I have to take one of my ss women to lunch tomorrow, but for the next few days I am all set.  I have individually portioned, frozen beef patties, a couple of smoked port chops, green beans, the rest of the cauliflower (a bit more than half), peaches for breakfast or dinner tomorrow, 2 dozen eggs (some of which I will hard cook), celery, a tomato, asparagus, lemon juice for making rosewater lemonade, plenty of yogurt, blueberries, and the iceberg lettuce.

You know, I do not want to eliminate all sweets and other pleasurable foods from what I eat.  I do not want to make this about sacrifice so severe that I am afraid to enjoy myself and what I eat.  I have several trips scheduled for next month, August and October, and I want to eat the meals they provide and not get all angsty about what I am eating or not eating.

What I am doing now has to be a way of eating that I can comfortably follow for the rest of my life.  That is supposed to be the path to healthful eating that can last a lifetime.  Anything else will not work, and I have decades of proof that drastically changing to only certain foods is an exercise in failure on a grand scale.  I have already lost enough weight to notice it.  My clothes feel slightly looser and there is a reduction in the bulge-age in a certain area.  My bra is too big and some of my big girl panties are in danger of dropping when I least expect or desire them to do so.

So, this is working, and I would like to keep it that way.  I do not want to deprive myself of yummy and delicious alternatives to the junk and carbs that have been the mainstay of my diet for so long.  I am spending more money on groceries, but the quality of food has dramatically increased.  So, it is all good.  No one knows how much longer they will live, I am no exception to that, and I would very much like to spend the remaining time that I have not being fat.  I would like that very, very much.

Maybe every incidence of slippage in the whole will-power failures has been an opportunity to examine what food means to me beyond something that keeps you alive.  Maybe I need to pay closer attention to those incidents.  Not let them discourage or define me.

There are moments when this seems too difficult.  A month ago I would have sworn that I was not a person who ate in response to emotions.  An emotional eater?  Not me.  Now I know that I eat according to how I feel, particularly when I am feeling frightened, threatened and lonely.  That is such a difficult thing to accept.  Yet, if this is going to work this time, I have to find a way to deal with this, understand and resolve it and then get rid of it, once and for all.  Oh, maybe not completely, I know myself fairly well, but I would dearly love to leave most of that baggage behind me, along with the flab.

That would be so lovely.  Finding a way to care about myself enough to make choices that are truly in my own, best self interest.  I help my clients manifest that in their lives, perhaps I can do it for myself, too.  I had no intention to get all serious about this process. I wanted it to be easier than that, more like, well, just easier.  I am avoiding the scale, which has never been my friend.  I am not measuring and weighing portions, allowing my tummy to alert me when it is full, or at least satisfied.  I am still walking without my cane.  I lost count of how many days, but is is more than a week.  I did too much last Tuesday and took it in to work with me, concerned that a twelve-hour day at two locations might prove more than my knees and hip could handle on their own.  I will admit that I am taking more pain medication, but I think that cane made it possible for me to walk with less energy and certainly much less assurance.  By the end of the day my knees are not too bad, but my hips are, only sometimes, an agony.  This, too, will pass, yes?

All of this, the entire process, just seems right.  I am not stressed about it, well, except for my problems with the damn sweets.  I always believed that I was not a fan of sweet stuff.  Given a choice, I would always choose something salty, crunchy, and if you could put sour cream on it, that was even better.  I am simply going to trust that this works out the way it is supposed to and that this weakness for sweet stuff will pass.

I have three new GPs.  This is one of them.  It is named, Karma-O-Whirl:

100 Days toward a healthier life - Day 16

16Breakfast:  Yogurt, blueberries
Lunch:  Eggs, scrambled with jalapeno
Snack:  Most of an Atkins bar, some kind of caramel and nut thing; saving the rest for breakfast tomorrow.
Dinner:  Artichokes, big salad with mushrooms, zucchini, tomato, cauliflower, celery, bacon, iceberg

Since someone asked:
Egg = 1 egg
Eggs = 2 eggs
I think 2 eggs is my limit, but if it changes, I will say so.
I drink a lot of plain water, a lot, at least a gallon a day, and sometimes have a cup of coffee or tea, except on Saturday mornings when I try to behave as though I am training for the Olympic coffee swilling team.  I have coffee divas all over the Midwest, willing and able to keep my damn cup full of brew as bitter as their restaurants will allow to be sold.  I am never happier than when I get the bottom of the pot.  Yum.

I did only a little cleaning today and some gathering of art materials for donation.  But, I am feeling better.  Hooray!  Much less coughing and I think that, well, I do not know what the hell I know, but I feel better.

So, anyway, artichokes.  They are so beautiful.  It seems a shame to cook them sometimes.  Their perfect globeyness, that mossy green...or is it artichoke green...with those sweet purple accents.  I think that most people do not eat the outer leaves, but I do, loving that bitterness.  And, that is my ode to artichokes and still one more proof of what an idiot I truly am.  Fortunately, I do not care a whit and am happy to embrace my dorkiness.  Really.  It has taken me decades to be comfortable with all of it, although I wonder, sometimes, how easy it is to be my friend.  Oh, well.

No cake today.  Man, that was a rough two days.  Cake.  Like it more than artichokes.  Eating that first bit of cake on Saturday created two days of cravings.  They are gone today, although I feel hungrier.  Tomorrow is lunch out with a friend and a test of whether or not I have completely brought down my self control.  They have sushi there.  Lordy.

Oh, even though I am not going many places, if I were, I would not be using my cane.  And one of the retinal wafer thing detachments managed to fold itself in half during the night and is almost half the size it was.  Maybe now it will sink more quickly.  After all this time, you would think that I would stop responding to it and swatting at the air like there was a huge bug in front of my face.  No new blood splatters in either eye since a week ago.

I bought bilberry to help with my eyes and turmeric for my nerve damage...or, is it the other way around?  Anyway, I will start taking them sometimes this week.  The fiber tablets are keeping my colon happy.  What else?  Nothing, I guess.  Oh, one more thing.  There was this gel mat at the pharmacy that you can put under the sheets and it is supposed to help you stay cooler at night.  I bought the smaller, pillow-sized one and tonight will try it.  If it saves me from having to buy a window air conditioner, it will be twenty bucks well spent.

O.K., one more critter GP.  Named, Cock-a-doodle-don't:

100 Days toward a healthier life - Day 14

Breakfast:  Eggs, bacon, coffee, many, many cups
Lunch:  Pho, half a bowl, half of a spring roll
Snack:  Cake on the drive home
Dinner:  Rest of the pho, rest of the spring rolls, more cake

Holy crap, it is now two weeks since I decided, reluctantly, to become a healthier person.  I hope that this is not a pattern, a continuing two-week of pretty dam good and then a backslide where the cake is concerned.  But, it is not my fault.

Really.  After breakfast and taking my friend on her errands, which I enjoyed very much, finding a few lovely craft materials things for myself and my mentee and the grandbabies.  Then, I dropped her at home and went for pho.  The older man there took my order and encouraged me to try a spring roll with pork.  It was very good and I think that I might ask for more help from him sometime.

I did have a moment today, though.  At breakfast, the errand friend needed change for a ten dollar bill.  I gave it to her in singles and a dollar's worth of change.  Cool, yes?  Then, I went to pay my bill for lunch and the ten spot was nowhere to be found.  I had left it on the table at the breakfast place.  With the tip I had already left, our lovely (truly, I like her very much) waitperson received a 150% tip today, just from me.

I was like totally freaked for a minute or two and then realized that it was likely the least expensive lesson I have ever learned.  It was offset by the mind-blowing sale that I got for a tiny, wooden barn and animals that I bought for our newest grand-nephew.  It was on sale for 50% off and then for another 75% off of the sale price because it was damaged.  I have to replace the screws in the hinges of one of the doors and two of the animals are missing, although the tractor was still there.  My mind is still blown over that one.

Where was I?  Lunch.  After, I walked to the Asian market next door and shopped for treats for my daughter and the boys, including daddy in that count, some herbs and a whole roasted duck.  You can choose your own duck from the pile of carcasses in the case, but I let the guy do it and he then hacks it to pieces and puts it into two, large carry-out boxes.  He does not give me the head, but that is fine.  Having my dinner looking back at me, bill and all, makes it impossible to disconnect myself from that lovely, rich, meaty goodness and the abrupt ending of the ducky's life.  He sure is delicious, though.

So.  The cake.  In this market you have to pay for the duck separately, as it is in the deli section.  No problem, except that today the corner of the place was packed, and I mean really, seriously packed, with sweets.  Asian sweets are not like those in any other part of the world.  They are made from sugar, of course, but also a stunning variety of starches, beans, rice and who knows what else.

I chose a wedge of this yellow cake that seemed strangely resilient in it's Styrofoam  and cellophane package.  Then, there were these rice things and those bean things and before I knew it, there were four small packages of sweets joining the hacked-up meat pieces, formerly known as ducky.

I sampled each one in the car on the way home.  The first taste is almost always the best, no matter what something is, and these were no exception.  Except for the cake.  Goodness.  And goodness does describe it.  It is moist.  It tastes of egg and not too much sugar.  It is sort of the airy, chewy texture of angel food cake, but more dense.  Lovely.  Charley and I have been snacking on it all evening.

I never should have bought it.  I will not buy it again.  I should not be eating it, but I am and the rest will be put out for the critters in the morning, along with the other sweets.  All of them, the sweets, cost only $6, so added to the lost $10, not a completely horrible day of wasted money, especially when I remember the huge meat waste I had a month or two ago.  Shudder.  That was shameful, but today's lapse is just a lapse.  Gonna move on.

I tried the new decongestants last night and have felt a little better all day.  Still not using my cane, and using less pain meds.  I bought fiber today and my colon is very happy.  It is a good day when your colon is not sad.  I am personally less sad today because I managed to get over the fact that my friend sort of stole my place to live in town.  At least I think that I am over it.  At this moment I no longer feel the need to stop helping at the gallery and I will try my best to not be upset and all grudge-holding with him when we next meet, which will be Friday.  Yeah, I am pretty sure that I am not upset about it anymore.  Pretty sure.  Maybe I do need a little more time to grieve the loss of that safe place, but I do not plan on using more than a few days for being sad about it.  Yeah, I can do that. No, he did not sort of steal it, he wrangled, pushed and punched my sorry ass right out of that place.  Bastard.  O.K., I am fine now.  Yeah.  I am, but that felt good.  Smiling now.

Tomorrow is back on the healthy wagon.  No cake for anyone.  I have some sewing that I would like to do and I promised to make some doll clothing patterns for a friend and, oh, there looks like there will be time for a nap in the early afternoon, altogether a fine prospect for a Sunday. 

On Monday I call the travel place and plan another short trip or two for the summer and I still have to join WW.  I am ditching the whole getting a new checking account and debit card thing and opting for paying the higher week-at-a-time fee for each week that I go there.  Maybe the extra $3.88 each time will help me value it more and make better use of the program.  That is an easier solution to the other stuff, and it is certainly much better than forgetting to keep enough money in that extra account so that I do not get hit with overdraft fees.  Now, that would seriously amp up my cranky-factor.

So, tonight's GP is one that makes me laugh.  A lot.  It is named Come here often? and there are several interpretations of what this depicts.

It might be:

1. Two of the microbes/germs/bacteria/bugs in my ailing body having a conversation whilst my white blood cells wander around taking long breaks, getting hyped on coffee and angsting about the meaning of life instead of doing their jobs.
2. A couple of citizens of other planetary systems, meeting out at Area 51, in honor of the couple of new books about the place.
3. Two Eastern European countries, redistricted by the machinations of their inbred leadership.
4. Two people from around here, transformed by the Rapture (or is it Raptor, I cannot ever remember),  making connections with the other left-behinds.
5. A pair of new lifeforms found in my refrigerator.

100 Days toward a healthier life - Day 11

Breakfast:  eggs, toast, butter, tea
Lunch:  Roast beef sandwich, whole wheat bread, grainy mustard, mild pepper slices, romaine lettuce
Dinner:  Last of the chicken, last of the pea pods, last of the rice that I had cooked and frozen, last of the mushrooms, last of the strawberries (2) and pineapple (1 cup)

I am so tired.  Eleven and a half hour day, with the last client running three hours.  We were on a roll, he was doing his part of the work, he laughed at my lame jokes, I mean, how could I just end the session and go home when the time was up.  He was entirely too humble, but I nagged that right out of him.  More on him another day when I can keep my eyes open.

Oh, and it my eighth day walking without the use of my cane.  It hurts like a bitch, but I keep telling myself that every step that I take without it is a step towards greater strength.  Yeah, I guess I am the only person gullible to believe that.  Well, could work, unless I finish off my liver with the OTCs.

I need to get more fiber in my body.  Colon not happy tonight.  Need that goopy powder stuff. 

My ears are taking turns with holding fluid.  When I turn my head, I can hear it sloshing around in there.  How nice that they share so nicely.


We who are about to do battle with WW salute you.  Please remember us in your prayers.  Maybe the fourth time is the charm.  Fuck.


Thank goodness I did two GPs yesterday (It is one of my lotsa dotsa and I lurve it):

100 Days toward a healthier life - Day 5 and Day 6

Thursday, May 12
100 Days toward a healthier life - Day 5

Breakfast:  Yogurt and strawberries
Lunch: Another one of those chicken thighs, roasted asparagus.
Dinner: Cheese crackers, three sugar-free chocolates, the little kinds
Lots of water

Only the fifth day and I am wavering.  Oh, my commitment is fine, but my old body is just not up to the task today.  I dragged out the calendar and figured out that I have been unwell for nearly seven months.  There were several bouts of infection that required 2-3 weeks of antibiotics, but I mostly am just tired and sick and tired of feeling sick and tired.

I am sticking with the healthy eating.  Dammit.  I really am.  I expect that my body will take as long to adjust to the lack of refined carbs and other junky kinds of foods at it needs to take.  This stuff takes time.  It must be like detoxing or something.  You try really hard to stop doing some thing and you feel worse for a while.  I know that happens when I have a really bad infection.  I have to keep reminding myself about this so that I do not lose heart and give up.  Because, you know, I really do not want to, well, you know.

It is only that I wish that I had more energy.  I did not do any of the errands and other household stuff that I needed to accomplish today.  I kept taking to my bed, reading and resting.  The new fiction is titled You Believers.  It is good.  Gritty, but good.  The first part had my heart pounding, honest, and by the looks of things, I am not going to read about the resolution of that part until the end of the book.  Good thing I am not inclined to skip to the end.

I did get a half-hour nap, but that kept me alert only for a couple of hours.  The only reason that I am even writing now is that I have to find a way to stay awake until it is closer to bedtime.  A six-hour nap during the daytime does not do anyone any good, no matter what you may think otherwise.  So, I am trying to stay awake for another two hours, at least.

I have another upper-respiratory something.  Dark clouds in and escaping from my upper sinuses, wheezing, coughing and general malaise.  However, I am not going to the doctor because all that happens there is more meds that only depress my system.  Exactly what that system is, I have no idea, but it is there and it is depressed.  Maybe it needs some chocolate to pump up the endorphins or something.

Patience...where are you?  I just need to get through these first few weeks.  On a brighter note, I did not succumb to the siren call of the maraschino cherries.  Score one for the exhausted, ooey-gooey bod.  Snort...hack...leak.

More guilty pleasure...

O.K., so I made the hope cloud image a few days ago.  Then, early this evening (Friday, which is when Blogger would finally allow new posting) I was reading my latest library book and one of the characters was gazing up at the sky and another character said something like she was looking at the sky as though she could read hope in the clouds, or something like that.   How freaking cool is that!!

Friday, May 13

100 Days toward a healthier life - Day 6

Breakfast: Nothing.  Shame on me.
Lunch:  Half of a Subway roast beef sandwich, no dressing, lots of vegetables, a little Provolone cheese
Dinner: Stir fry, pork, tons of celery, pea pods, mushrooms, onions, 1 big jalapeno.  Pineapple and a cookie for dessert.  Tea.
Lots of water all day. 

Since this began, I have been drinking at least a gallon of water each day, and will be able to have more when I get the water filter going.  I have a Britta pitcher and finally found filters for it.  They have to soak for a while before you can use them, and I keep forgetting.  Our tap water is icky and I know I can drink more when the pitcher is ready.

So.  Breakfast.  Did not have any today.  I felt so icky yesterday and had no energy.  I took a walk around the block, hoping to get something going in my body, but it did not work and I had a short nap.  It sort of helped, but by the time I went to bed, I was at the point of being overtired and not able to sleep.  So, I read until nearly 4:00 a.m., fell asleep and was up at my usual 6:30-ish waking up time. 

I fed the cats and went back to bed.  When I next woke, it was just after 11:00 a.m. and I had a hour to pull everything together and get to the gallery.  I made it, and stopped at the Subway place for a foot-long roast beef and veggie.  I ate half of it on the way to work and then forgot about the rest.  Oh, well, such a waste, though.

I was just hungry enough to eat well at dinner.  After, a friend stopped by with ice cream and I had a scoop of chocolate and a half-scoop of strawberry.  I made him take the rest home with him, so I am safe for the moment.  I should have been able to say 'no' to it, but I did not.  This is only the sixth day and I had better get more effective control over my appetites and my ability to restrain myself, or this hundred days will seem much longer.  I thought about making myself begin over again, at day 1, at each fall-down, but that means that I would likely being finishing the hundred days sometime next decade.  My health cannot wait that long.

I was sitting in the gallery this afternoon and the day was going so slowly, so I had a lot of time to people watch and think.  Whilst that was happening, the detachments in my left/good eye kept bothering me and I had this notion that it may be too late to save my health, and it was so alarming a thought in that moment I felt afraid that I might really just freaking die.  Then I started to worry about having another heart attack thing and I was spiralling all over the place, shame, anger, fear and a sense of loss that took me beyond tears into such a hopeless state.

I have no one to blame for the sorry state of my health but myself.  I alone am responsible for getting to this point.  Only I can do what needs to be done to get back on that path to health, but I am so afraid that it might be too late.  What if I have done irreparable damage to my body? 

I know that people come back from devastating heart damage or crippling strokes (another concern as per my internist) or horrible accidents.  I find no comfort in any of that, because I may have too many critical health issues at one time. 

You know, I was sitting there and those vision issues were what started the whole spiral thing and I thought, well, maybe I will be lucky and will only lost most or all of my sight.  You know, maybe that would not be so bad, at least it is better than dying. 

But, I do not want any of it to happen.  I want to get healthier, lose weight, take care of my heart, not have strokes or lose any toes or end up with seriously compromised vision or anything.  I want to be strong, dedicated and faithful and fix it all.  I am taking all of my medications and walking and eating well, or as well as my stupid human nature will allow.  I am now, finally, doing what I should have been doing, what I knew all along I should have been doing.  I am doing it.  But, what if it is too late?

I do not have the heart for any guilty pleasure today.

100 Days toward a healthier life - Day 4

Day 4.  Wow, four whole days without any of the usual suspects in my usual dietary universe.

Breakfast:  Plain yogurt over blackberries.
Lunch:  More greens, medium tomato, the other half of that avocado, some vinaigrette.  Half an apple.  A chicken thigh, no skin.  Five or six of those green pea cracker things. 
Dinner:  Stir fry, with lots of celery (love, love, love celery), white onions, mushrooms, jalapeno peppers (like two whole ones), about a quarter cup each of pork and shrimp.  Steamed/fried in the pan, no sauce, only a little freshly ground pepper and some chili paste.  Diet cola, I am so weak.  About a cup of pineapple.  Three maraschino cherries (they are almost gone and will soon stop tempting me).

Alrighty, then.  Breakfast was nice and filling and absolutely delicious.  Packages of blackberries were a buck at the market the other day.  They are now all gone, but they were lovely whilst they lasted.  So yummy.  However, I was really, really hungry by 10:30 a.m., and it was all I could do to not eat my pencil before lunch.  I might have to add a bit of steel cut oats, steamed in almond milk or something.  I mean, I was really hungry.  Distressingly so.  It kind of makes me laugh right now because I am such a baby.  Yep.

Also, by the time 7:00 p.m. rolled around, I felt tired and hungry.  I cooked only what I wanted to eat, volume-wise, so was not tempted to finish any leftovers.  Now, I am thinking that doing that, cooking just the amount of food that I should properly be eating might help me to rein in my portion sizes, even though I am not paying attention to those, or calories, or the freaking scale.  Although, I have to admit that I am going to quickly become disenchanted with cooking or preparing every single meal with just the ingredients appropriate for each meal.  There is a compromise between preparing just enough for a single meal and making recipes or whatever that can feed me for days and days without all that freaking preparation.

I brushed my teeth right after dinner, in the pathetic hope that it will prevent me from eating any more of anything before bed.  I am not hungry, but I do experience hunger after I settle in for the night, as I read for an hour or so before falling asleep.  I go to sleep hungry and it has not killed me or anything, but my growling stomach is not the tiniest bit placated by my assurances that none of us is going to starve overnight.  My flab has assured my gut that it will keep the energy going until breakfast, but, honestly, no one is very happy about this.  I know that time, probably not more than a week or so, will take care of the extreme hunger pangs, but try to tell that to your tummy.  Really.   See how far you get. 

Besides, if you do not eat dinner until somewhere around 7-8 p.m., there is absolutely no reason to feel any measure of hunger before you go to sleep.  I suspect that the disconnect is in my brain, or my recent habits.  It is a stretch, even I admit that, but perhaps there is a way to blame this on one of the political parties.  You know, like they and their messages are poluting the energy on the planet and that is what is making it so hard for people to lose weight; like our flab is the only thing left on to which we can cling for comfort in an unsettled and wonky world.

Work today was as amazing as always.  I think that my clients are wonderful to trust me and go through the process the way that they do.  I am asking them to think of their lives in a way they have never before considered.  Many of them have few resources, which makes their willingness to take this journey with me all the more remarkable.  They, as a whole, totally, freaking rock. 

The ones who do not rock, well, they will continue to walk their darker paths for as long as it serves them to do so.  There is some quality of or need for suffering that is essential to how they are living.  From my outsiders perspective, it seems to be some kind of martyr complex, as though their suffering makes them better or holier or more sensitive or some damn thing, as opposed to us lesser mortals.  It is a very snobbish, superior self-view; they seem to relish sharing the details of how miserable they are, especially if it is in response to someone else in their lives who is not supportive of them.

Now, please do not misunderstand.  I have been where they are.  It is how I recognize it in them.  And, even with my experiences in moving beyond that ego-driven state, I cannot, do not discuss these aspects with them.  Frankly, it is not any of my business, but even if it were, they have to keep doing that stuff until the payoff in suffering reaches some limit beyond which they can move on to being more productive in their relationships.  And, you know, there is another quality to doing that.  It is that you become addicted or sensitized to the drama.  It is like a feel-good drug to be suffering so.  Pshaw all you like.  If you have been there you know exactly what I am talking about. 

So, tomorrow will be some cooking for the freezer.  Maybe a soup in the slow-cooker.  I have lots of frozen vegetables and a whole chicken that would take beautifully to that.  All those delicious containers of soupy goodness will be perfect for work lunches.  I have to begin making bread again, too.  Got to have healthy carbs to sop up the broth, you know.

A new book, fresh from the publisher, to read tonight.  Fiction.  It looks like a mystery, but with creepy stuff in it, as well.  It also looks like it may take only a week of bedtime reading to finish it.  Oh, and I got that Stephen Somebody's Rodale book about the new American diet.  Something about how we are missing micronutrients in some of the food we eat, ummmm, and bad stuff that gets in the food supply from poluted runoff or some damn thing.  I think he calls that stuff obesogens.  Huh.  Anyway, I tried to read it at lunchtime, but one of the security guards wanted to wax philosophic and it was difficult to read and murmur back at him. 

Off to bed, to read, to sleep, to dream of a body that moves through the world with more grace, more confidence and less stress on my joints.

My new guilty pleasure.

100 Days Redux

The 100 days idea worked really well for getting me started in divesting all of my crap and actually doing a significant amount of said divesting.  So, I thought, just this minute when beginning this little posting, hell, why not try that again, babycakes!

Today is Day 3, mostly since I had two great days previous to now.

I am hungry all the time.  I know that this damned appetite of mine will settle down eventually, but if today had not been so busy that I could not fit in everything I wanted to do, well, I would have eaten stuff.

The day began with having an obligation to someone else, so no breakfast.  There was a tiny break in between that and the next thing, so I did what I had to do and used the drive-through at the only restaurant available.  There was a diner or coffee house or something right there, as well, but I did not have enough time to use either of them.  A quarter pound hamburger and a huge diet cola, which I needed as much...if not more...than the sandwich. 

I then did the second thing and moved on to buy the keyboard I need for one of the computers I use at the library, get new socks and, since I needed a flash drive I bought a Hello Kitty one.  I have to say that between socks without holes and that cute, little Kitty and her matching ear buds, I was having a very nice time.  Yes.  I was.

On to the grocery store for cash for WW and as long as I was there, I decided to shop for groceries.  Man, what a concept.  Anyway, fruit was not on the shopping list, vegetables were, but the sales were too good to pass up.  Strawberries, blackberries, avocado and tomatoes.  A huge box of spring greens and a small container of crumbled bleu cheese.  Salad dressing.  Chicken thighs, artichokes and asparagus.  Oh, dear, how did vegetables sneak in there?  More plain yogurt to have with the fruit, some eggs for hard cooking, and a package of those frozen hamburger patties.  I see people buying them all the time, so they must be good, plus they are easy to cook and because they are frozen patties to begin with, they will not rot in the refrigerator before I get around to cooking and eating them.  I threw out a stunning and shameful amount of food-gone-bad today.  Meat, cauliflower, eggs, cheese, salad greens.  Just fucking shameful.  I may not have bought the optimally healthy kinds of foods today, but I think that I did well enough to get by and it is my hope that none of it gets tossed because it is to smelly or oozy to eat.

The best part of shopping was that the drive-through burger gave me a little gastric upset and I had to spend more time in the grocery store restroom that anyone should have to spend.  I am kind of glad that it happened.  It is a nice reminder that that kind of food does not agree with my tummy.  I think that I will keep almonds and walnuts in the car just in case that fierce kind of hunger strikes again and I am not at home to take proper care of it.

Then, my energy broke and I went straight home, skipping the pharmacy and the WW meeting.  Fine.  That sort of thing is going to keep happening, although I am hoping to not dump the meetings any more than necessary.  If their process is going to work for me I have to go to the meetings. 

As I was sitting in the car, waiting to feel well enough to drive home, the radio was on and there was a news item about weight loss programs.  Jenny Craig was on the top of the good results of the study, and Weight Watchers was not.  WW got points for their new plus-something-something, but low marks for the lack of supporting research or something like that.  Whatever.  JC requires that you buy their food, and their membership fee is a whopping $400.00 per year.  Maybe that is why it works, it limits your choices and your ability to do other stuff.  Exactly how does that help me learn to eat in what passes for my real world?

As a bonus for not making everything happen today, when I was off to do the first thing for someone, I had my arms full of stuff for the second obligation.  In the process, I put a huge compartment box of beads on the roof of the car, along with a brand-new tube of jewelry adhesive.  They were the project for the second thing.  It was going to be cool.  Making as many bracelets and/or necklaces as the students could make in the time we have together. 

So, anyway, you have to know where this is going, I get to the school and, wonder of wonders, the huge box of beads is nowhere to be found.  I look everywhere, in every bag.  No beads.  Then, I stand back and stare at the car, like it is going to start talking to me.  And, then I see the space on the roof where the beads no longer reside because they fell off sometime during the early part of driving away from home this morning. 

Wherever they are, they are not going to be part of anything I do.  They were, still are, nice beads, really nice beads and whomever found the box is going to have big fun with them.  Taking them to the school was part of divesting them.  With any luck, most of them would have been gobbled up during the project.  They are still gone, just by a different route.

We were still able to do something, because I had a small ton of ribbons in the car, leftovers from another project.  We made braided key chains and bracelets.  I made a thing to attach my purse/bag to the chair when I go to restaurants.  Will not need it for the drive-through, but nice to have anyway.

I did not get what I needed from the pharmacy, nor was I able to go to a meeting or look for shoes in which I can walk with relative comfort.  I did, however, eat fairly well.

Very late breakfast:  drive-through burger and a large diet cola.
Late lunch a chicken thigh, two ears of corn, a cup of blackberries.
Late dinner was a huge salad, four cups of loosely shaken into the bowl greens, a medium tomato (which tasted divine), half a small avocado, two or three tablespoons crumbled bleu cheese, splash of oil dressing.
Lots of water all day.

Tomorrow is going to be more difficult.  I usually reward myself with dinner out, Asian, for a very busy and stressful workday.  I order mostly vegetables, a little shrimp and a bunch of sushi.  No sauces.  Maybe a soft roll and some rice, but not always.  Almost always fresh fruit for dessert when I actually order dessert.  Lots of lovely tea. 

Man, that choice, whether to go home for a late dinner or go out for a late dinner is slightly less than 24 hours in the future and I am already conflicted about what I am going to do.  I suck.  In my defense, my day is from shortly after 8 a.m. until after 7 p.m., a long, long day, with only a lunch break.  By the time I leave there, the prospect of a nice, mostly healthy dinner is one that is not easy to entertain.

I give up.  Going to bed, to try to find that darn library book that I have to keep renewing because I cannot find the darn thing, take a quick shower, read a bit and hope that I make the right dinner choice tomorrow.

Gosh, only 97 more days of this.  Thud.

Simple eating

Is there such a thing?

Still trying to eat well, but, gosh, it is so difficult.  It is not like there is any real junk food or fun food in the house, but that is all that I want, desire, crave, crave, crave.  As a result, I am overeating what is here.  Not by much, but more than you need to eat is simply more than you should be eating, big-picture-wise.

Maybe if I keep a record it will help me to take responsibility for being such a, well, something, but not what I was going to write because I am also trying to stop calling myself names, you know, like the really disgusting ones I usually use.  So, no name-calling, just the facts.

Let me see.
A four-inch square of leftover chicken and rice casserole.
6 individual pieces of the sugar-free chocolates that R gave me for Easter.  That was lunch.
A whole bunch of those smiley-faced frozen potato things.  Half is in the refrigerator, but I left them out for a while to cool, forgot about them, and might just toss them in the interest of not getting sick from them.
Lots of water.  Then  more water and then some more.  Lots.
An apple, Ambrosia I think, that I will have before I go to bed.

I am hungry and am not sure that the apple is such a good idea because I still have that tummy trouble, the one where the remains of what you eat leaves your body sooner than is comfortable.

I tried to go, finally, and join Weight Watchers last Tuesday.  It took me a couple of weeks to fool around and shake the numbers so that I could squeeze the fees into my budget. 

So, anyway, I check the schedule, pick a time when they are having a meeting and haul myself over there.  The introductory offer that waived the enrollment fee was over and the weekly prices have gone up.  Not by much, but it was more than the cash I had with me, which was really all the cash I had.  Have, until this month's social security check arrives in my bank account.  There is nothing to do besides cancel or scale back my summer travel plans so that I can do this.  Getting healthier is more important than escaping from here for a while.

It/they are the least expensive weight loss thing around here and I really need something to help me with this.  I read a whole bunch of diet, weight loss, healthy eating books over the past month, and they all have something decent to share, but I have tried to do this by myself for the past several years and it is just not working.  So, the whole group thing is still to be tried.

Tomorrow will find me at the bank, opening a checking account so that I can take advantage of the lower weekly price for the WW meetings.  I am slightly miffed that they make you go through all of this nonsense just to get the lowest fees, although I really do understand that they do want to discourage their members from bringing cash that they then have to handle and eventually bank.  I will get over that, especially if their program helps me.  Although, if that perky Janet is there tomorrow, I will restrain myself from giving her a gentle shake, but with all of the tummy troubles I cannot promise not to barf.  Really, she could get on your last nerve.  I think that I should begin practicing a nice, relatively sincere smile right now.  They say that if you smile, even when you do not feel like smiling, that using those particular muscles can induce a feeling that approximates being happy.  Or happier.  I believe that, but I am not happy about it.

Maybe I would not be so cranky if I felt better.  I have not been able to shake this upper respiratory thing that I caught in January.  Seriously, five months is long enough.  I am guessing that each of those rounds of antibiotics has not been supportive of settling my stomach.  Who knows.  At least the infection seems to be under control.  I feel slightly worse from being around the smokers on Friday.  I am still coughing and my voice is raspy.  I slept most of yesterday, all of last night and will be going off to read a bit before sleeping some more.

I just need enough time to rest and be well, or at least feel better.  I swear, between the head and chest and throat stuff, the vision crap and my lack of energy, it would be so nice to run away somewhere for a week.  Yeah, at least a week, with no responsibilities or opportunities to disappoint anyone.  I mean, strangers do not give a crap about how you perform as a person and if, for some reason, they felt some distress at how miserable a human being you are, well, you cannot get all invested in that because they are strangers and you will be leaving them behind soon enough.

Work, however, is going better than ever and I am so grateful for having that part of my life.  It is nice, even though it is in contrast to how lonely the rest of my life is.  I am not complaining about any of that, truly.  I know how fortunate I am to have the resources that I have.  I see how lucky I am every day at work.  I see it in the market and when I am driving, all the people who would give just about anything to have the life that I have.  I am an ungrateful bitch to want more.  Maybe it is because I am feverish and cranky and feeling like crap all of the time that just wears me down. 

On the bright side, maybe I will be humiliated at Weight Watchers tomorrow and that will put all the rest of my life back into perspective.  Yeah, that's the ticket!  Something to look forward to.

Simple thoughts

McDonald's will not serve you water.  They have water, they just will not let you have any.

The robins thought it was safe enough to come back north.  I am guessing that the past 2 1/2 days of snow and freezing temperatures were not on this year's schedule.  I know that it was not on the rhubarb's schedule.

Yesterday was A's birthday.  His friend, M, from school, was cute, funny and a handful.  His parents are sure to age prematurely.  I hope they have factored that into their life plan.  I really do.  My C was a handful and I never thought to plan ahead.

I am weary of sitting here at McDonald's, and my soon to be accomplished return to the car repair place seem to be almost more than I can handle.  Last night, when my sore throat, sore glands, sore sinuses and sore head were making sleep impossible, I begged to not be sick again.  Please, I implore you, body, do not be sick.  I do not have time to be sick.  More importantly, I do not have the heart to keep getting sick.  I accept a crappy immune system and seriously impaired mucus membranes.  I do.

Last night, the prospect of being ill again, so soon, only since the end of January, for cryingoutloud, was discouraging enough to have me thinking about an overdose of something.  That I do not have anything capable of producing an overdose seemed to not be an obstacle last night.  Today, the daylight, gloomy as it is, allows me to see the flaws in that plan.

I mean, you can no longer overdose on acetaminophen any more.  At best, you will just lose a leg and the final shreds of respect that your family holds for you.  If you have any doubts, just ask S.

When you are visiting your daughter and her family for three months, just following Christmas, it is not in your best interest to precede your departure to her house with a week's worth of fighting. 

If you do, on the two days when you have your catarracts removed, your daughter will refuse to hire someone to come in and be with you whilst everyone else in the household is at work or school, and she will leave you to spend the remainder of each surgery day in a restaurant.

You will have money for lunch and coffee and, maybe, cake, but you will not be able to see well enough to find your way to the restroom.  You and your ancient bladder will have to rely on the kindness of strangers to help you pee.  This one is not about me.

It is important, if not actually essential, to avoid laughing out loud when two men in very expensive suits walk into the McDonald's (where you are waiting whilst your car is being repaired next door) and one of them asks the counter clerk, "So, what's good today?" and then stands there and stares at her until she begins to recite the menu, which is posted on the wall behind her.

Especially when that man orders for the other man, and they end up with fries, one Big Mac (which they split), two soft drinks and a dipped cone.  Lordy.

Especially when he turns and you see that it is your old boss.  I mean, you heard his voice every day, for years.  Failing to recognize him sooner must be your heart, trying to protect your psyche from those memories.

This simple girl is taking her prescription cough medicine, her antihistamines, her nose goo, her pain meds, her mentholated chest rub, her snugly blankie, her book, a couple of cats, her simple thoughts and going to bed.