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.
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