So another day, another 3313 calories. Pizza is my downfall. That is all I can say. I love pizza. And it is calorie laden. I know that there are options that are not so calorie laden, but they are not quick meals on a day that you get off work late. I know that you can purchase the Boboli bread shells, and put them together yourself, but you have to have purchased them ahead of time. And the pizza we got last night was not as bad as some, but still it’s all a deathtrap. My problem is that I’m not used to eating fruit and veg on a grand scale. Vegetables I can get behind, but there are only a few fruits that I enjoy, at least now. Apples have never been my favorites; I like bananas, and oranges, and mandarins. I like peaches with the exception of peeling them (and I’m not keen on the fuzzy skin). Berries I quite like. Fruit is expensive, or at least it seems that way. I guess I need to just bite the bullet and start getting fruit in my diet.
I was going to say something about my biggest problem being something or other, but I’m not sure my biggest problem is anything about fruit or exercise or what-have-you. I have loads of big problems, but they are all relative and nothing is so big that I can’t work it out if given enough time and patience. Life is good that way. We just sometimes need to have a little understanding. I have no delusions as to my greatness, or lack thereof. I now that I have my good points and my bad points, my strengths and my weaknesses. The thing is you have to make sure that the weaknesses and shortcomings don’t overpower the strengths and successes. Sometimes it’s a battle, but one I hope that I’m winning more than I’m losing.
I saw an episode of one of my favorite TV shows last night that had a plot point that really got me thinking. A character was being targeted by an assassin, and, to further the plot, the good guys faked her death. At one point after that she was bemoaning the fact that her death seemed to make no great ripple in the pond of life. That her “passing” was observed only by a few “bunches of weeds” being sent to the funeral home. I know that my death would be no great event. It would not be heralded by news stories, great tributes or any fanfare to speak of. I know that my family and friends would mourn my passing and show me respect at a humble funeral. But I hope that my family, and especially my wife, would at least remember the good things about me, and not the times I disappointed them. I would hope that there was enough good to outweigh the bad, or at least not so good, that I’ve done in my tragically short life, having been cut down in the prime of my life, with my best work ahead of me, to have happy memories.
I’m not really sure why this post took such a maudlin turn, but let’s get that over with here and now. I have no intention of going and I will be here to dance on all your graves in the male equivalent of a red dress. **Maudlin mode – off** My kids are back from youth conference today, my daughter is hiking Ensign Peak with her friends, and intend to go home and have a fantastic chicken casserole for dinner. To quote Gilda Radner, “May I suggest you get undressed and show them your wazoo!”
Quote of the day:
“Stored away in some brain cell is the image of a long-departed aunt you haven't thought of in 30 years. Stored away in another cell is the image of a pink pony stitched on your first set of baby pajamas. All it takes to get that aunt mounted on the back of that pony is to eat a hunk of meatloaf immediately before going to bed. ~Robert Brault”
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