It’s been 40 days and 40 nights since I smoked a cigarette. I needed to tell you that because it’s something I’m pretty proud of, and I’m trying to practice positive reinforcement with myself. Also, there are other willpower-requiring things I’d like to do now that I’m no longer enslaved by nicotine and unable to draw a clean breath. I’d like to give the whole plant-based eating thing another shot, and I’d like to start walking a few days a week. I’m not going to make any resolutions, but I am going to start doing better. It is, after all, that time of year. It’s also about six months until mandatory swimsuit time, and this year I’d like to not scare people. Continue reading “There weren’t torrents of rain or a big flood, but it still feels like a whole new world if you cross your eyes and look at it like one of those 3D drawings.”
If you were here this evening, you’d be parked next to me on the sofa, and draped with a lovely homemade afghan. I’d offer you a choice of coffees, and you’d quickly realize that mine is much less premium than my husband’s. This would no doubt cause you to raise your eyebrows, because it’s obvious in like two seconds that my sweet husband is not the high maintenance partner in our relationship. Except when it comes to coffee.
Anyway, here are a few of the things I’d probably tell you over the rim of my cup while I was fantasizing about chocolate: Continue reading “Just coffee, because everything that’s good with coffee is bad for my healthy way of eating.”
I’ve been doing a thing for a couple of months now. It feels like a secret, like something I should be ashamed of, like people will judge me once I say it out loud. To most, it will almost certainly sound woo-woo and strange, maybe even like I’m taking an extended ride on the pseudo-science train. But here’s the thing: Continue reading “I eat beans.”