Okay – In Oklahoma, It’s McDonald’s Day of Love – so hamburgers are on sale for .59 and cheeseburgers are .69. Proceeds go to the Ronald McDonald House. The guy that sits in front of me bought 45 cheeseburgers and a couple dozen bags of fries to pass around the office. I have been able to say “no” politely about 5 times. I had a satisfying breakfast of eggs over easy, a great lunch with chicken and sautéed mushrooms, onions and a nice salad with avocado. So, it’s really been very easy to avoid the burgerfest.
But there is something still deep within me, that wants to reach deep down into those damp, crinkled, and now cooled bags of burgers – I think it’s just a habit; Like walking into someone’s office with a bowl of mints or m&m’s reflecting brightly off the fluorescent lights. I’m sure everyone’s grabbed a handful without even thinking. I know I have.
The new me does not. The new me, sees the brightly colored bowl, acknowledges it, and feels the phantom movements towards the bowl, but then ignores it.
|Misha's Portabella Crust Pizzas|
The new me, planned for the Superbowl and made buffalo wings, and bacon wrapped shrimp, and had cool, crunchy sliced vegetables with great sauces. I didn’t feel the least bit cheated or undone. I did have a moment. My very thin and fit teenage son shares a love of the wavy chip and dip platter. I even taught him how to make momma’s special dip. I did ask him not to make that specific dip or buy those specific chips; but he did. During the game, I went into the kitchen to see how my dishes were coming along. There was the open bag, angled perfectly for the optimal reach and grab, waiting for me like an old friend. I actually gasped when I saw my old nemesis. My first thought was to grab the bag and roll it up and throw it in the pantry. (OK, maybe that was my second thought). But I didn’t want to be close enough to smell them. So the new me, just backed away, went about my business and left them alone.
I had a great Superbowl Sunday. I hope everyone made good choices. I have no regrets on what I ate. And while it may sound like wavy chips are my kryptonite, the new me doesn’t allow them wreck havoc with my food plan. I can envision myself in the near future, where I don’t gasp, I don’t run away and I don’t blink. But for now, I let them have their distance, and I keep mine. - Sister M