In a relationship, you often do things by default of being with that other person.  Not that you hate it.  Not that you love it.  But, you do it because you like being in a relationship with that person – and that’s what they are into.  Like going to watch The Proposal when you feel neither romantic or comedic.  Or stopping for lunch at a sushi restaurant – when you don’t eat sushi.  Or dieting.  

I’ve been on a diet by default for four – or is it five? – weeks now.  The Pace household has been eating on the leaner side these days.  Given the humidity down here, I can’t imagine why we’re not just sweating off the pounds.  I was never much into saunas.  Anywho, we’ve been eating whole wheat everything, eggs, turkey, cheese, fruit, flaxseed….  The list goes on.  And ice cream, cookies & cakes of any sort haven’t touched our kitchen in awhile now.  (Well, ok, I did sneak a small package of Maria biscuits in the grocery cart last week.)  The upside is that JP is doing a lot of cooking these days.  He’s even taken to dish duty more than usual – which I wholeheartedly appreciate.  (Dishes suck.  But I can’t stand to see them in the sink at night, so I must do them before I go to bed every night.)  And, the diet seems to be working.  For JP, at least.  Me?  I’m trying not to count anything…

However, I cheated recently.  On my diet, that is.   In a moment of weakness, I grabbed some food to go at Wendy’s.  Come on, who can ignore the vanilla frosty!?  And when the fries are good – they’re goood.  It was so gross and good at the same time.  I’ve decided this is why fast food exists – to let us know that we’re human and can succumb to the marketing powers that be at food chain companies, and at the same time, make us appreciate real, fresh food.

After I received my food, I thought, “Should I tell JP?”  No.  I’m sooo cheating right now.  Damn, this french fry tastes good.  But, not really.  But, I’ll have one more just to be sure.  Ugh, it’s sooo salty.  Salt is good.  Maybe I should go to the gym today?  Wait, I don’t go to the gym.  I mean, do 2 visits in the last month count as “going” anywhere?  I’ll just take the stairs up instead of the lift.  That’ll do.        

 

So, that was my moral dilema of the week.  

Switching topics, it’s imperative that you all go buy Regina Spektor’s new album, Far.  I actually listened to the entire album on NPR, then picked up the CD on Sunday afternoon.  (Yes, I actually bought a CD.  Unwrapped the plastic carelessly, pulled out the disc carefully, and put it in the CD player lovingly.)

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