I’ve been watching what I eat and buying fat free things like pretzels and doing my utmost not to overeat. It’s going fairly well, although stressful days make it harder.
Yesterday I went into The Udder Place, my usual coffee stop on the way to church, to order my usual Cafe Mocha (okay, they call it a Mocha Moo, but I rarely say that, usually just ask for a Mocha). While standing there, I allow my gaze to wander to the baked goods, my first mistake. I spy an unfamiliar muffin, not the usual (horrible) cranberry nut or blueberry, but something that looks like I might actually like it. I ask, “What kind of muffin is that.”
Ah, the muffin of my dreams: banana chocolate chip. I buy one. I save it all morning and take it along to a lunch meeting, where it *is* my lunch. I break off one little piece at a time. Even without being warmed up it is moist and delicious, the chocolate chips large and milk, just soft enough to be, mmm, perfect!
Now here I sit monitoring Sam, lying on the futon-on-the-floor beside him, still in my flannel snowman pajamas, and I have no muffin.
The cupboard is full of Miso Noodles and the freezer holds Gardenburger entrees, but there is no muffin.
The snack drawer holds oat bran pretzels, and there is roasted red pepper hummus in the fridge, but there is no muffin.
But there are dogs, and they are loving. And I will rise up and make the best of it, crumbling a graham cracker into fat-free vanilla yogurt. I will go in search of my copy of The Divine Hours and pray my mid-day prayers, and I will eat a lunch I enjoy, with vegetables and everything, and I will live without the muffin of my dreams.