Weekends.
This is all I have to say about weekends: why cannot it be this way every day? I love the weekends. I sleep, I work, I get to have dinner with people I love. It is all so wonderful. That dinner. That delicious dinner. This past week, dear Blogoworld, I went to THREE DINNERS. How many dinners do I normally go to, per month, per say? NONE. Zero. Nada.
But I went on three. And three my body does not know how to take. Here’s the truth of the matter—I did prepare for each dinner throughout the day. I ate no grain breakfast and lunch, fruit snacks, got off my lonely little butt and went to the gym. And yet, I still feel exploded.
Dinner One was Thursday night. A woman I volunteer with, Saloni, is being relocated with her hubbie to San Francisco. There was a small going-away party complete with Dewey’s pizza and Graeter’s Ice Cream. It was delightful. I even had a beer.
Dinner Two was a celebratory friend gathering. My college pal and general rock n’ roller, Mikayla, had two friends from her long past high-schoolhood in Cincinnati. We went out to appetizers and then home to Graeter’s. Again. Wow.
Dinner Three was a work party. Oh my Dear Lord, please bless the work party. This is a poor college-girls DREAM of food. If I was every hungry in my life, I was never more aware of it then when I see platters of baked chicken, carrots, broccoli, wild rice, cheesecake, and appetizers galore. What a night.
And by Day Four, after all of these dinners, I’m only mildly disappointed in myself. I ate small portions of everything, which is something I never did. But I had small seconds of many things, and I did not really want to. And so, again, I come to realize that I am, what I love to call, a serial social eater. I pattern my habits on those around me. I splurge when I’m gathered with others. It all means something deeper to me, psychologically.
But it does not mean I am hungry. So with every great downfall comes another great learning opportunity. Three days of Dinner, one enlightenment. Next time, I’m going to remember how I feel right now, after all these carbs. I’m going to remind myself that eating tasty cookies is not the way to fill up, and if I’m going to splurge on anything, I certainly can load up on extra helpings of veggies, not carbs. Tame those cravings, make good choices.
And maybe I don't like the weekends so much, food-wise. My schedule is free, my eating is free. It's hard to reign in those Saturday/Sunday combos and make them as productive and precise as my Monday-Friday.
This is all I have to say about weekends: why cannot it be this way every day? I love the weekends. I sleep, I work, I get to have dinner with people I love. It is all so wonderful. That dinner. That delicious dinner. This past week, dear Blogoworld, I went to THREE DINNERS. How many dinners do I normally go to, per month, per say? NONE. Zero. Nada.
But I went on three. And three my body does not know how to take. Here’s the truth of the matter—I did prepare for each dinner throughout the day. I ate no grain breakfast and lunch, fruit snacks, got off my lonely little butt and went to the gym. And yet, I still feel exploded.
Dinner One was Thursday night. A woman I volunteer with, Saloni, is being relocated with her hubbie to San Francisco. There was a small going-away party complete with Dewey’s pizza and Graeter’s Ice Cream. It was delightful. I even had a beer.
Dinner Two was a celebratory friend gathering. My college pal and general rock n’ roller, Mikayla, had two friends from her long past high-schoolhood in Cincinnati. We went out to appetizers and then home to Graeter’s. Again. Wow.
Dinner Three was a work party. Oh my Dear Lord, please bless the work party. This is a poor college-girls DREAM of food. If I was every hungry in my life, I was never more aware of it then when I see platters of baked chicken, carrots, broccoli, wild rice, cheesecake, and appetizers galore. What a night.
And by Day Four, after all of these dinners, I’m only mildly disappointed in myself. I ate small portions of everything, which is something I never did. But I had small seconds of many things, and I did not really want to. And so, again, I come to realize that I am, what I love to call, a serial social eater. I pattern my habits on those around me. I splurge when I’m gathered with others. It all means something deeper to me, psychologically.
But it does not mean I am hungry. So with every great downfall comes another great learning opportunity. Three days of Dinner, one enlightenment. Next time, I’m going to remember how I feel right now, after all these carbs. I’m going to remind myself that eating tasty cookies is not the way to fill up, and if I’m going to splurge on anything, I certainly can load up on extra helpings of veggies, not carbs. Tame those cravings, make good choices.
And maybe I don't like the weekends so much, food-wise. My schedule is free, my eating is free. It's hard to reign in those Saturday/Sunday combos and make them as productive and precise as my Monday-Friday.
But one can only work for improvement. Here's to another good week.
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