Catholic guilt

We ordered delivery last night. I had a veggie omelette but snuck a couple bites of Fyl’s pastrami sand and a chocolate shake. Loved it. I’d planned that shake for a couple weeks, but the pastrami, oh my god, it went down like mortal sin. Cheating on my diet. Had had nothing but fruit all that day, which is the usual, fruits and veggie and whole grains, and doing penance again today, every bite of fruit an Act of Contrition, the green onions a couple Hail Marys. Committing adultery on your diet is a serious transgression. The devil made me do it.

Actually I love fruit and veggies, we always have lots, and breakfast is a cornucopia of three or four different things, say berries and a stone fruit, some apple or pear slices, a couple dates, with a couple spoonfuls of plain yogurt. Plus my three daily Brazil nuts (Fyl’s orders, though I can’t remember why), maybe a slice of whole wheat bread if I’m splurging and a cup of coffee. Something equally healthy (but less of it) for lunch. Fyl serves up dinner, usually a small cut of meat or fish and a couple vegetables. Dessert is a bowl of some whole grain cereal. Seem to be losing a steady five pounds a month that way, and unexpectedly the arthritis pain has been dramatically reduced.

So forgive me my cheating. I always say it won’t happen again, but it does, maybe once a month. The flesh is weak, though there’s a little less of it every month.

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