Today (ie, Sunday) was a slightly hectic day.
I was raring to start my pre-Pesach (Passover) work, having finally last week
decided what work to do each week until the holiday arrives (in a bit under two
months). My allotted task for the morning was to buy cleaning supplies, as well
as several items which I had noted last year at Passover’s end, as items “needed
for next year”. In addition I had to make some routine blood tests in the
morning, which meant fasting until 10 AM. That in itself should pose no
problem. But I was feeling a little queasy; perhaps I had caught a “bug” after
traipsing around in the drizzling rain Friday night. (Well, I HAD to get my
steps in……)
So I decided to take my breakfast with me: a
diet yogurt. But on opening the fridge, I discovered that it was missing. (Ricki
must have noticed it…) So on the spur of the moment, I decided that I would buy
breakfast on the way to the stores, after the blood tests. I HAD calories I
could use for breakfast. Since I was fasting, I hadn’t even had my morning
coffee….
The blood tests went easily. (….amazing how
much easier for the technician to find a vein now that I weigh less…..) So I
set out to have breakfast. I purposely passed the bakery, and went to a new “Italian
corner” eatery I ad noticed of late.
To make a long story short, the menu choices
were NOT particularly dietetic, but I ordered a grilled sandwich, instructing
them to cut it in half (the roll was huge…). To my dismay, on receiving the sandwich,
I could see that they had smeared it with oil. (I could have ordered the salad
with “rich cheese” for a lesser calorie count…) But time was passing, and I was
hungry, so I ate the half sandwich. But it did put me about 100 calories past
where I wanted to be at 11 am.
On arriving home at 2pm, I had a milk drink,
but still felt a bit under the weather. Soon I found myself polishing off a
slice (SMALL slice) of cake from the freezer.
“WHAT
IS GOING ON HERE?” I queried myself. Apparently that old former internal script
had reappeared….those lines inside my head that condone overeating as a way to
deal with feeling under the weather or tiredness.
You would think that after two and a half
years of eating properly, those lines would have vacated my head, but no, they
hadn’t. They had just lain in wait (“sin crouches by the door”) for an
opportune moment.
Of course, once I noted what was happening,
I put a stop to it, being a little bit wiser, and a lot more on guard. In the
end, I managed to close the day only 200 calories above my plan. Not bad.
But I learned today that I will probably be “fat”
in my mind forever.
