Good for the soul

I have a confession to make. I'm not sure exactly how to come out with it but it must be time to do it or I wouldn't be thinking about it now and for the last week or so. It's probably not as bad as you might assume but it's certainly something I'm not proud of having to admit. It's about food.

No, no. NO, stop. I don't have an eating disorder or anything close. Don't be thinking these crazy things. Only I am allowed to think the crazy things here or do the crazy things anyway. I've gotten good at doing crazy things. Ask anyone! Well, not anyone. They would have to know me. You would be crazy if you asked just anyone. Can you see them wrinkling their brow, lifting their eyebrow, scratching their head if you asked some stranger how good Tessa was at doing crazy things? Can you picture that? Can you? Really? You might be crazy or even crazier than me!

But I've side tracked. The fact is I know a bit about food. I know a bit about nutrition. I'm not an expert but it's an interest that I have broadened with knowledge. I know about and can make a lot of meals that are really good, mostly from scratch, that are also healthy. I also happen to like a lot of foods that are good for you and can incorporate them in everyday eating. I do this most of the time.

But I guess this is where the confession comes in. When I get tired (usually around the end of the week) I will skip the gym and come straight home. There are usually enough left over’s from the meal the night before to make do and not have to cook that evening. I get lazy and will be satisfied to eat whatever I can get my hands on. Last week Jay came home and agreed there were some good things he could eat later for dinner. Then he knowingly asked, "What about you. What did you eat?"

Dahn, dahn, daa...silence.
I look up. "Nothing."
He smiles, "Come on, what?"
"I'm fine. I didn't work out and I had a really big lunch today."
"Really. What did you eat when you got home?"
Silence.
He's persistent and he knows me. "What was it?"
"Okay, I really did have a big lunch."
"Right, but you ate something when you got home. What was it?" He's still smiling.
"Chocolate chips."
"What else?"
"I ate chocolate chips. Isn't that bad enough?" I asked.
"Yeah, but what else? I know there was something else."
"I ate dried cherries."
"That's not a very good dinner. You need to eat something better than that."
Then I just get stubborn and at that point - I'm not very hungry. "It's fine. I ate three quarters of the bag!" Maybe that wasn't such a good thing to admit.
"So you ate the stuff you make your cookies out of?"

Drat! I did! I ate the ingredients to my cherry, macadamia, white chocolate cookies. I guess I can say it was at least the healthier version. I didn’t eat any of the processed flour or shortening that would go into it. And I didn’t shove them into my mouth while standing over the sink. That’s never a pretty picture. So what if I do make a meal out of chocolate and cherries?

Well, we all know it’s wrong to make a meal out of cookie ingredients. That is where the confession comes in. I’m guilty. There are some days I can’t be trusted alone with simple cookie ingredients and I admit it. I will try hard not to do these types of things again but somehow I’ve got a feeling I will come home one day next week and have to finish off the bag of macadamia nuts I forgot!

What can I say? It just happens that way sometimes.

TT