So last Saturday morning I woke at 9:30 and Brad and I had no eggs, milk, cheese, bread…or anything to make breakfast. I had a writing meeting at 11 am. I hadn’t showered and was really tired. Normally I would just run to Jack in the Box or McDonald’s for an egg-y cheesy dough-yness and fake hash browns. I wouldn’t even have to get dressed. I would take my pajama clad fat butt to my little car, throw on some sunglasses, and head the five blocks to a greasy bag of calories. It’s a simple system, a comforting system. Then I wouldn’t have to dirty or clean the kitchen. Then I could laze about in my jammies for another hour maybe watching a rerun of Enterprise. But this is not the way. This isn’t accomplishing my goals and afterwards I would be a bloated sluggish mess for my meeting.
Instead I woke up, showered put on some clean clothes and headed to the store for our organic milk, eggs, and bread. I hate grocery stores. I mean I despise them and would rather clean the bathroom, or mop the floor on my hands and knees than go to the store. I don’t know what it is, maybe the bright lights, the smell, and the noise. So it is a triumph for me that I went. I know it seems like a small thing. I know people go to grocery stores every day. However, in this struggle against myself, or against my auto response, I think I need to recognize when I overcome. I think I need to celebrate the small victories, because I am not usually victorious. If I am fully aware of my choices, and cognizant of my failures then I really need to remember when I made good choices. Hopefully, these small victories will snowball into more and more small things I can do to make myself healthy. In other words, the more credit I give myself for the good choices I make, hopefully the more choices I will make…good.
The best part is when I got home with my spoils; my beautiful wonderful husband made me a delicious breakfast of over easy eggs on toast. It was warm and filling and didn’t make me feel like a beached whale. This could work for me yet.