Hello, all! Did you enjoy your Memorial Day?… Or your Monday, if you aren’t in the States! 😉
I had this grand plan to go to the lab for a blood draw this morning. It’s annoying because it requires me to fast, which means going first thing in the morning. (Unless I care to just not eat all day, which is fine with me, but, well, you know.) Since we are in the twenty-first century, I think it isn’t asking too much if I expect them to have an answering machine that actually states their hours. But, alas, they do not, so I took a nice little drive over there at 7.00 AM. They were closed, obviously. Not like I really lost sleep over it, since I had just about the worst night’s sleep ever last night anyway!
Upon my not-so-triumphant return home, I attempted to make something that popped into my head the other day. See, there are some pears in my refrigerator that just refuse to ripen. Seriously — they’ve been in there for nearly a month! I actually like unripe pears, but they don’t like me — I always choke on them. So I’m waiting, and waiting, and waiting, and finally decided I am too impatient and I am going to do something with one of them.
Not quite the way I envisioned them! I used the microwave since I have zero pancake-flipping skills, but the plate was too small, which ruined the would-have-been-pretty pattern. Ah, well; will just have to try again! Long story short: sugar-free syrup, pears, cinnamon, ginger, nutmeg, whole wheat pancake mix, soy protein powder, egg white, water. No amounts because obviously this didn’t turn out the way I wanted it to! I had some of the pear left over, so I chopped it up and microwaved it in a mixture of water and syrup. It still didn’t soften up. Something is weird about these pears, I tell you.
I then proceeded to traipse about in the scorching heat. It was probably about 90 degrees out, which is actually fine with me, as I like the heat. What I don’t like is the humidity. Anyway, I just have to say this: I hate Trader Joe’s. I waited in line for over twenty minutes just to buy some Pure bars. Too bad that’s the only place around here where I can get them!! And then I wandered around in search of disposable knives. I found forks and spoons aplenty, but knives? Don’t even ask. Weapons of mass destruction, right?! (I did find them. In a supermarket in my neighborhood. Figures.)
Oh! The happy return of the baby doll (those of you who have been reading my blog since last spring might recall that I am in love with that type of top):
This actually matches the earrings I wore today, which I bought in St. Lucia. At the time I thought they were purple, but I guess they’re not.
They had another design that I really loved; it had a tiger’s face. I have a slight obsession with tigers (and dolphins), but I feel kind of weird about having a tiger hanging from my ear, so I went with these instead.
Requisite pile of vegetation:
Used my julienne peeler to make strands out of an e-n-o-r-m-o-u-s zucchini, then diced up the “core” and added it to a pot with sauteed eggplant, zygote carrots and black beans. The size of this was rather daunting, but have no fear, I prevailed.
Verbal Vomit! But not too long, because I would love to get to bed. So. Monday = nutritionist. I actually popped in on Friday, just to get weighed after my vacation, but I didn’t have a full appointment then. Which might not be such a bad thing, since we are getting very … circular. I fail to see why it matters whether I am 100% compliant if I fatten up anyway. I mean, yes, if I were heavily restricting and gaining because my metabolism shut down due to starvation or something, then I see the point. But it really is quite disgusting to me how much I am eating, and to be Machiavellian about it, if the end result is the same, what’s the difference?! I do not want to lie about what I eat; that would be stupid and pointless. In spite of the fact that I am, unfortunately, a very good liar, I prefer to be honest about this, since the only person I’d be fooling is myself. I said that I won’t be “perfect.” And the circle keeps going. And I want to pull my hair out.
Humidity and I are not friends. Ignoring the frizzbomb on my head, humidity makes my body retain water. (To clarify: feeling bloated is not the same thing as feeling fat, and neither of these are the same thing as feeling full. Just saying.) You’d think it’s dehydrated or something! Which, believe me, it definitely is not. It just likes to play cruel jokes on me. I think my new strategy should be to avoid looking in mirrors or thinking about my corporeal being in any way at all, because doing either of those things makes me want to throw up. And we know how I feel about that.
As a side note, the Cereal Situation is completely out of control. I usually have five or six open boxes; that’s normal for me. But now I have five or six unopened boxes waiting in the wings. Oy.
Have a great Tuesday.
“Our deeds determine us as much as we determine our deeds.”