Month: March 2022

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Whatever It Takes

Well, it is the second day o’ Lent 2022, during which I am sacrificing junk food—particularly sweets— for the 40* days Lent lasts. I have not cheated—except for absentmindedly taking two Tums last night before I remembered they have sugar in them. I don’t think that counts as officially cheating since Tums is a medicine, and I didn’t mean to consume that little bit o’ sugar. I can also report that I am still very much alive so far, although I’m feeling kind of forlorn. I’ve got 38* days to go.

Yesterday, I de-sweeted the house by dumping the remainder of my Honey Smacks cereal. I also threw out my stash of chocolate licorice (blasphemy) and licorice licorice. Getting rid of chocolate licorice was a horrid blow to my innards. It also almost killed me to jettison my annual Whoppers malted milk Easter eggs candy. The freezer is now barren of all ice cream. If I am not an ice cream fiend, who am I? I am so lost and discombobulated. The sweet-less me is like a fish out of water: I can hardly breathe. I fear I will start to flop around on the ground any day now. Just who the Hell-en am I supposed to be for the next 38* days?

Ultimately, I suppose I will survive this junk food self-ban by clinging to my neckwear even more obsessively than I already do—if that’s even possible. I will have to fill my junky-food-less time by scribbling more poetry and fiction than I already routinely do. And I will certainly amp up my reading habit accordingly. I will keep up with posting my TIE O’ THE DAY whatever-it-is tblog. And I will, of course, continue to romp outside and inside with Skitter. So, in effect, I will be in my usual Heaven, but without snacks of any kind. It’s a good thing “one day at a time” is a key mantra I believe in. 😇😏

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It’s My Signature Pattern

Maybe you missed the fact, but please know that I have a soul-deep attachment to paisley. This photo is evidence of my truth. The paisley Tie o’ the Day, Shirt o’ the Day, Face Mask o’ the Day, and Hat o’ the Day are my kind o’ snazzy. For the most part, I have ceased wearing face masks. However, I think this mask adds to the point I’m making in this post: it’s all about the paisley. Do not be askeered, however. I have no intention of posting pix of my paisley Underwear o’ the Day. I do have some scruples, you know.😜

FYI Stay tuned for this afternoon’s post about how I’m handling a treat-free Lent. Hint: So far, it hasn’t been pretty.

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Ready. Set. Don’t Eat That.

Lent has begun, and I’ve decided to give up sweets and junk food in general. For the next 40* days, I am giving up ice cream, licorice, cereal, birthday cake-flavored Hershey’s kisses, peach gummies, crackers, potato chips, pretzels, and all other junk edibles of this ilk. I am even giving up my Freedent gum, which contains sugar. It is the one and only chewing gum that does not stick to my dentures, and it makes me particularly sad to ignore it. (If I get lonesome for doing some chewing during Lent, I suppose I will have to take up chewing tobacco.🤢)

I am taking this Lenten sacrifice seriously. It will be a true challenge for me because I am more of a snacker or grazer, not a 3-meals-a-day eater. During Lent, my whole food routine must change. If I discover I like the eating change, I suppose I will make it my new normal way of eating. That is something I cannot imagine, but I am big on being reasonable: if the result of my not eating junky food is that I feel better, I will likely follow the logic of it and decide to eat differently for the duration of my life. Right now, the idea that it is best to drop the junky food is only theoretical. I “know” the way I eat could be healthier, but experiencing a more healthy diet firsthand will make it personally clear and logical.

I do not look forward to these 40* days of Lent. It will be tough. I will need distractions. And I’m sure I will ask myself at some point in every day why I’m giving up anything for Lent at all, especially since I am not Catholic. But I like a challenge, and I like the idea of sacrificing something in order to grow as a person—even to treat my own body with more discipline and more respect.

So that’s the plan. But I know it’s possible I might fold tomorrow and eat a bowl of ice cream. The result of that would be a feeling of abject failure, and I do not need to feel like a failure. Ain’t nobody got time for that. I am indeed in charge of my success or failure in this matter. If I don’t succeed in sticking to the challenge for 40* days, it will be completely my fault.

And here’s a secret: I must admit that I am fully aware success in this endeavor will be possible for me to achieve only because Mom doesn’t cook her magnificent treats anymore. If Mom were still creating her yummy confections, I would not have even tried to give up sweets. Such a sacrifice would not have even occurred to me to attempt. I would have been setting myself up for sure failure. But I can do this now that Big Helen has retired from cooking. I think I can. I think I can. 🍧🍨🍦🍰🍭🍬🍫🍿🍩🍪

BTW If you don’t understand why 40 is followed by an asterisk, be sure to read yesterday’s TIE O’ THE DAY post for the explanation.

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It’s Mardi Gras

I figured I should acknowledge Mardi Gras, if only because I’ve been busy today thinking about what I should give up for Lent tomorrow. What I really want to give up for 40 days is my sobriety, but that would sort of defeat the purpose. Actually, it would defeat a bunch of purposes. Nah, I will be giving up something else for 40 days. I’m not sure what it will be. I’m thinking giving up sweets would be a sacrifice for me, but my birthday is next week and I can’t justify breaking Suzanne’s heart by not eating whatever birthday dessert she will want to feed me. Still, I’d kind of like to test my mettle and see if I could go without sweets for 40 days.

I know it would be breaking the rules of Lent, but maybe I could go sweetless on 39 of Lent’s 40 days, and then go without sweets one extra day after Lent officially ends. Of course, that means I would have to put an asterisk by my accomplishment if I eat sweets on my birthday, for cheating just a smidgen smack dab in the middle of Lent. It would be as if I were a Major League Baseball steroid user in the 90’s. I’d have an asterisk by my stats. Asterisk, asterisk, asterisk. ✳️