Am I the only one who has felt this way? I told myself I’d keep with the Dixie Chicks theme. Hey, we safely have day two.
Okay, I’ll admit, I tried this morning to sit down and write, but absolutely no topic came to mind. None. Nada. Rien. Then, over dinner, it hit me. I would write about, well, dinner.
Let’s be honest, this site is not called Ramblings for nothing. I’m away from my horses, the garden has gone into hibernation and the only other topic I have going is how much I might appreciate applique but still hate bias binding. Instead, I have another wrinkle to add to the mix.
As I am not with my herd, I am faced with a new diet. A largely vegetarian and nearly entirely organic and low fat one. Today was day two and already I have had to forcibly drive past a McDonalds. I have found myself desperate for something with fat, and had to settle on blue cheese dressing. That was my vice today. Oh, and the mocha in the fridge, but that’s gotta last at least through the weekend, so it is only in severe moderation.
So, I guess the point of all this is when contemplating a diet, no one ever mentions the cold turkey phase. The longing, the yearning, for something with too much fat in it. I long for peanut butter flavored pretzels or salt and vinegar potato chips. I have, albeit delicious, Terra chips. I stare at the fridge willing a block of cheddar cheese to appear. I settle for low fat swiss on a whole grain piece of toast with organic turkey. Is it good? Of course it is. But then comes the late night pangs. I feel like a drug addict deprived of her hit. While there might be ginger snaps, and I do love me some ginger snaps, they do not make up for homemade chocolate chip cookies. When I wake in the morning, I hope the feelings are gone, but they never go far. I eat yogurt, a piece of toast, and tea. Heck, that’s what i usually eat, but before lunch rolls around, I am dreaming of whipped mashed potatoes and marinated beef or salty french fries. I have to wonder how long I will think only of what I cannot have. When will the day come that I can safely get up and look forward to low fat soup and reduced fat chips? Honestly, I’m hoping sooner rather than later. This is my first shot at breaking a habit of this magnitude. I’d be too terrified to ask anyone who might know better. The answer would probably just depress me. In the mean time, I’ll take a forbidden sip of Starbucks and close my eyes, dreaming of Barcelona.
Ah, Barcelona. Even when I eat donuts with my coffee, I dream of you and your delicious pain au chocolate. Waking, sleeping, I dream of that perfect delicacy. Oh, and the city too. Right, nearly forgot about that. So in my misery, I’ll think of coffee and pastries in the Gothic Quarter and dream of the day I can afford to go back. Maybe then I’ll finally have moved on from my other food longings. Then again, maybe not.