FishDreamer scribbles: It ain't over yet.

Friday, 27 February 2004

I am a big baby

It's Friday. Woo. I'm in kind of a funk this evening, thanks to a couple of things derailing my weekend and deflating my mood. Not that any of it is bad, or anyone's fault, or that I have any fingers to point at anyone. But I was looking forward to some quality sleep, some really great pizza, and some alone time with my sweetie. And as of right now, it looks like I'll be getting none of those.Remember the stories of the Orange Behemoth? Mr D's big-ass Scout truck thing that my brother came up and worked on last summer? Well. It still needs work, and my brother finally had the time this weekend to come up. He got here at about 4:30 today. I found out about it last night. And yay, my brother is here! But this means Mr D will be spending all day tomorrow bonding with my brother, and working on the big Behemoth, and if he notices me at all it will be to ask for something. The boys will get up early to go in search of parts, which means the alarm will be set and I will be awoken.

So I just got a completely free day to do nothing, by myself. I guess I'll read the book for Chicklit's Classic Club, since discussion begins Monday. I also intend to work out or something somewhere in there, and maybe cook. This is not the happy lazy day with my sweetie I'd had planned. So, suck it up. I'll live, right?

He just came in and told me he needs to be up at 9 to start with the phone calls for auto parts, so I was right. (He also made me feel a little better. But still no alone time.)

But so, the litany. We stopped at the really good pizza place and got an uncooked pizza to take home and bake. This is the really good $20 pizza, with the garlic crust and the best sauce. Unfortunately, of the five toppings my half was supposed to have, they forgot two. He gets the multi-sausage pizza, I get a specialty of the house that has meatballs (cut up), tomatoes, onions, mushrooms, and ricotta cheese (plus, of course, the standard mozzarella). This one was missing the ricotta and the mushrooms, so instead of the decadent big gooey delicious mess of pizza I was expecting, I got an okay pizza.

Some people know how I am about my food. It's not so much that I'm extraordinarily picky, although I admit to being particular and having odd dislikes (swiss cheese, ham, olives, peanut butter, and raisins for starters). But when I am expecting something in particular, especially if it's something I've had before and really enjoyed, I get ridiculously disappointed when it fails me. I was sad to the point of pouting and near tears at the thought of it not being what I'd wanted. It's silly. But here I am, trying like crazy to keep my eating in check and on the healthy side while I ramp up my training and work to change my lifestyle and lose weight. I've budgeted this day and these calories for a particularly special treat, and then it ends up being something else. If it had been something else wonderful, or something else not high in calories and fat and everything, then fine. But because it was a partial version of what I'd wanted, lacking in two of the things I don't get to have very often because Mr D doesn't eat them and therefore they were especially a treat, I'm going to be pretty cast down about it.

Is that so wrong? I know I should be grateful that we can spend $20 on a pizza. But I'd been anticipating this special thing, and it just didn't deliver. It was okay. It was probably even pretty good. But it wasn't what I wanted, and I didn't really want it at all.

I can adapt, I can be flexible, I can adjust to most things. But with food, or with anything I've really looked forward to, I want it to be what I want it to be and if it's not, I'll be unhappy. Disappointed.

So, my happy fun weekend got derailed, my pizza was only okay, and my husband and my brother are spending the weekend together while I entertain myself. Just another weekend in my life. I'm really glad I get to see my brother, especially since he didn't come for Christmas and he went away for his birthday. But it's not about me this weekend, so I will do what I do and not worry about it. I just need a moment to adjust my expectations and get over it. I'm a big girl, I can do it. Just let me indulge in my moment of childish woe about a thwarted wish, and everything will be fine.

But you know the pizza guy is going to hear about it, come Monday. I am so tired of my food missing ingredients!

A couple of things: A very happy and wonderful birthday to the one and only Wonder Neff! My nephew is 8 today. It's also Deborah's birthday, so go wish her a happy one if you will.

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