Today begins a new week, though, and with it a whole new chance to clean up my act and my mood in one fell swoop.
|Funk food. Stop eating all the chips!|
It's not that I'm going to stop eating bread and beer, but I'm going to try to balance them out with, I don't know, a salad every day? More cooking in and less eating out? And stop stop stop the endless midnight snacking, Meister. Just stop.
And then, when the stubborn ankle sprain I've also been wrestling with (which has chained me to the elliptical machine—and by the way no, I'm not taking it very well) has finally healed and I can run again, I won't feel this sluggish or despondent anymore.
I'll be able to enjoy summer-fresh tomatoes again, and to eat them raw while standing in the middle of the farmers' market, juice running down my arm. I'll be able to laugh and pack a picnic lunch on a weekday and feel like I'm not constantly running from one overly air-conditioned spot to another.
I'll want to cook again; it will come. And in the meantime, it's okay to let yourself feel a little blue every once in a while. Just don't get lost in it, Meister. Get ready to come out on the other delicious side.