The Evening Bowl of Soup

    By me it's a ritual: supper is nearly always a big bowl of soup (usually low-calorie vegetable), and two slices of bread. Whether the weather is a windy winter, or sweltering summer, I like soup.  But this week I had cooked a thicker, pea soup, in deference to family preferences. And not having walked much that day, I had no extra calories to spare. But I had enough for supper. HOWEVER, there were also left-overs in the fridge. Not fattening stuff, which I would have no qualms of chucking if no one else ate it, but some freshly cut vegetables and a piece of grilled fish. And no one else was going to eat it. I could eat one or the other; not both. And I didn't want to go out and walk an extra hour, because :

1)     I am getting too used to 1700 calories daily (which is OK on days that I walk a LOT ) as opposed to my regular 1500 calorie fare. This habit is a potential time bomb).

2)     I am trying to get more sleep, and leaving the house at eleven PM for a ninety minute walk is not compatible with this goal.

   So I chose to eat the leftovers, figuring that I need to sometimes break the idea that I "must" have soup, as well as keep to 1500 calories. I had a nice amount of satisfaction that I managed this and was able to control myself.

   However, the following day a relative suddenly arrived to do some home improvements in my kitchen, and without warning the kitchen was inaccessible until midnight. A second evening without soup was too much. The store-bought pizza we ordered was good, but no replacement for a warm bowl of soup. I ended up overeating, much to my chagrin.

    "OK. That happens. Just don't do it again…."