Well friends, it has been a while since I have posted to this blog. ‘Tis the season of parties and luncheons – cookies and cakes – fudge and buffets – popcorn and peppermint ice cream. Therefore, my eating smartly has suffered.
This morning I was fighting a bout of slight depression/sadness/blues, but determined to not let that mood ruin my day, I got dressed in my Christmas clothes for tonight’s party.
A smart person would have waited to get dressed in their party clothes until AFTER eating tomato soup, but NO, I got dressed first.
This soup was leftover from last Thursday’s luncheon and was made by a local gourmet restaurant. Very good soup. I was lucky to take some leftovers home. So I put the soup in the microwave to warm up. When the dinger dinged, I had a fleeting thought that I should probably get a hot pot holder. But NO, I reached in with my bare hands to retrieve the bowl of soup.
You guessed it! It spilled – all over the microwave oven, all over the counter, all over the floor, all over my clean party clothes, and onto my right hand. @#$%@#%@#%@#%@#$^&*& (hear me scream). I raced over to the sink to rinse my burning hand in cold water, then frantically tried to wash out the soup from my Christmas turtleneck sweater and suede jacket. And I cried. A good long cry.
I cried for the spilled soup. I cried for my stained clothes. I cried for my burning hand. I cried for all my laziness. I cried for all the things I have not gotten done that I said I would do this December. I cried because I was crying.
Then I ate my cooled down soup – what was leftover from the spill. It was good, but certainly not worth all the drama. That seems to be the story of my life. Is all the food I ingest worth all the drama it creates? Is my eating adventures worthy of a blog? Is my struggle to lose weight so all fired important in the scheme of things?
Big sigh. The Christmas blues have arrived I think.