Keeping What I Will

Where It Begins

 

I went to the local organic market this morning, and while browsing the aisles, I spotted something new--veggie hot dogs "smoked style." They were bigger than average, and looked very intriguing. I've been on this quest for the perfect vegetarian hot dogs* ever since I stopped being able to find Morningstar Farm's version in the grocery stores. So I picked up a pack and tossed them into the cart.

Four hours later, I'm feeling a little light headed and my tummy's beginning to rumble, and I think, "hot dog!" I hadn't thought to pick up buns while I was at the store, but I knew that I would be content with just the dawg and blops of mustard and ketchup. My tummy totally gets into the idea, and so with both it and the brain clamoring for a hot dog, I take the pack out of the fridge and look at the directions for the "preferred cooking method" (this is very important with fake hot dogs--they easily turn into inedible rubbery logs of grossness). The preferred cooking method was to cook in a skillet, with a lid.

I paused...I'd have to dig out the skillet. And the universal skillet lid that I have for all my skillets. It would take a while to cook. And then, of course, I'd have to clean it all up afterward.

I put the hot dogs back in the fridge and went back to what I was doing before the hunger signal.

Within a few minutes, though, the idiocy of it all hit me. I'm not going to feed myself what I want because I'd have to cook it in a skillet? How many times has Nathan asked for a sunnyside up egg for a snack, and I've said "Sure, baby," and quickly dug out that same skillet and lid? Really, how many times?

Oh.

I'm not mad at myself, even though I've gone through this similar thing plenty of times before. (I think I've even blogged about it.) It's just interesting to me--I know that I don't love myself enough, which often translates into not taking care of myself. When I think of that, however, I think in big terms and big events and big consequences.

It's not actually the big stuff, it's the little stuff. It's stopping to go to the bathroom when I have to pee. It's getting myself a glass of water when I'm thirsty. It's finding twenty minutes to do yoga when I'm feeling tense and achy. 

It's cooking myself a vegetarian hot dog in a skillet.

I am a beautiful work in progress, and I've just re-remembered something I need to know. Fabulous.

*Alas, I still haven't found the perfect vegetarian hot dog. It was good, but not EXACTLY what I'd hoped it would be.

A Lovely Day

 

 

 

 
 
 
 

 

 

These photos actually have nothing to do with my day. They were taken earlier in the week, during a walk around the lake. I had intended on taking photos before my Thursday morning Nia class--of the space and of my fellow dancers. However, despite living about four minutes away from the studio, I managed to be late yet again. I took some comfort, though, in that fellow dancer S. was also late--and her situation was even more amusing than mine. She'd arrived twenty minutes early, decided to wait in her car, and then lost track of time.

We're so cute.

So no pictures. We came galloping in, already gasping for air, and off we started.

Such a lovely, lovely day. Nothing new or exciting happened--just a really good Nia class, laughing with women I like, running Spenser ragged with the laser toy, talking with Nathan, a really good vegetarian Buffalo Chik'n Pizza, and now I hear Mark's key turning in the lock.

And oh my goodness--he brought me the most obscenely big French macarons from a new restaurant near his office--Paul. Oh my!! I must get the camera.

 

And no, I did NOT manage to not take a bite...or three...while looking for the camera.