The man behind me at the checkout counter had NO idea what he was getting into when he asked me how to cook asparagus.
“Let me tell you ALL the ways!!!”
You may be a little “off” if you love asparagus enough to pose with it and post the picture on the internet in a ridiculous fashion. Ain’t nobody want to see that.
There may be something strange about a single-girl in a one bedroom apartment that owns two vacuums (and has a Dyson on her wishlist for lottery days).
True? Most likely.
My sudden insatiable olive consumption is probably my body’s way of telling me it could use some fat and salt, please. Cannot. Stop. With. Them.
True? Most likely.
The fact that my beloved Peanut Butter and Jelly has been sequestered to my cupboard** for an unprecedented amount of days (weeks?) may explain the salt and fat cravings.
The absence of Peanut butter interest as well as a waning appetite may be substantial cause for my concern. After all, this is not the first time this has happened and …cause and effect arguments aside… it’s telling.
That part of me that should be concerned? That part so charged up and full of moxie? I’m having a hard time locating it. Searching has become exhausting. The mojo is so illusive. I find myself wondering if I imagined it?
And I mean…after all. It’s just peanut butter. It’s food. My weight is stable despite and all I have to do for now is maintain and the holidays are coming up and …and…. but.
Anything “after-but” is sh*t.
Lately – as I have many times over the months – I’ve been channeling the words of my awesomest inspiring friend, Mel.
She is the one who passed along these bracelets. I wear them everyday since.
With them, she wrote me an incredibly moving letter.
One part just…struck me. Stuck with me. It left a mark. For the better.
“Some say recovery is a continual journey. I say that is bullshit. Recovery either is or is not. I chose “is.”
Whatever I do…It will be my choice. So…about this peanut butter situation and the jaws theme song I hear playing in the background? I either decide to stay in the water and ignore the lifeguard…..or I start swimming toward the beach.
(Funny how what’s dangerous seems safe and the safe harbor seems scary. Fear is imaginary. Fear tells us what is like-ly, but it’s not. It’s like-lies.)
I have a choice:
1) Flirt with getting eaten alive and drowning after a life of fear or struggle…or
2) Work my azz off and swim against rip tides toward shore (and hopefully a hot lifeguard.)
But I need to take responsibility and OWN my decision.
I choose. I decide.
I better choose wisely.
It’s a choice between life and death.
Is that even a choice at all?
One of the Optional Prompt for NHBPM is “Write about life and death” .Previous posts can be found here. Also – I will not be doing the 30 in 30 thang. Ain’t nobody got time for that. Or…okay fine, I just can’t hack it. Not for me. LOL. So many bloggers I love posting everyday and – that’s probably why I like them because they are more interesting than I am.
*Totally True. Posing with asparagus? This whole blog? LOL. Ridiculous.
** (yup, I say cupboard, and cabinets are where the plates go and pantries are big like closets.)