The DietChef Thing: Day 7

Hey everyone.

Well, I seem to be on something of a see-saw here, I do hope it doesn't persist. Bad day, good day, and yes, you guessed it, today hasn't been so wonderful, though not as bad as Sunday. Also, today I came face to face with a demon I'd been thinking I might have to meet at some point and a question I would have to answer: what would I do if I faced a plate of food so horrible I didn't want to eat it at all? Would I have the strength of will to pinch my nose, grit my teeth and shovel it in, or would it join the other inhabitants of trash can land, and then, if it did, what would I do?

As soon as I open my eyes this morning, I know trouble is brewing as sure as I know that pills that say I'll lose a stone in a week if I take them are fakes! I'm tired to death, my bones are all telling me, indevidually, how much they truly, madly, deeply dislike me and, worst of all, I'm seeing flashes. Migraine! OH joy! How bad's it going to get? Is it worth eating any breakfast? Oh well, don't know till we try do we.

Karen gets me up and we go through the routine. Treacle pecan granola again, yum! Even in my woebegone state I can still enjoy it. Coffee. It gets drunk, wish I could too! *Giggle*.

Soon after breakfast I have to head back to bed. I fall immediately asleep. Noble husband awakens me at one O'clock. I open my eyes, expecting to be delluged with pain and, it doesn't materialise. This is the second time this has happened and I'm amazed. I'm still tired to pieces and aching, but the Migraine symptoms have gone away. Very odd. I drag myself up and go to see about lunch. Now this soup I am not really sure about, it was one of the ones I didn't order. Sweet potato and coconut, sounds weird to me. As it pours from pouch to pan I can tell it's thick and smoothe. A tiny taste on my finger is encouraging, not bad, under seasoned again, I think I'm just going to have to expect most things will be. Get out the salt. Really, only a pinch would make it perfect. I'm not the kind of gal who has salt on the table at every meal and shakes it wholesale over her food the way I've seen some people do, but this emphasis on very low seasoning is getting me down. Ok, it's ready, let's see what we've got here.

First bite: nom! And wow! It's really very spicy, I mean seriously quite hot! The sweet potato isn't overpoweringly sweet, which I was worried about, and the coconut is there, but it's subtle and delicious, like coconut in curry. I'll be ordering this again, definitely.

I have a lovely afternoon. I speak to the friend I did the brainstorming for last night and we have a lovely natter, talking over the ideas I've worked out for her, there's only one that really isn't going to be viable, I'm amazed. I guess that soup must have been filling, because I don't notice my insides till way after five, and that's when the dreaded pizza arrives.

Actually it arrives at a quarter to six and husband offers to keep it outside the room and eat when I do, I told you he was noble and now you can see why I've given him that name, but no way am I having that, letting him have cold food because I can't hack the smell of it. So in it comes, and the smell nearly drives me mad, but I don't cry. Whining Winnie has her little whine, but Lady Willpower and L combine forces, sing We Shall Overcome very very loudly at her till she flees in panic.

Six O'clock is here at last. Chilli Con Carne tonight, with my usual serving of greens. I've got the cooking and serving routine down now, I'm sitting at the table in five minutes, but I do not, I really do not like the smell that's coming off this plate, oh dear no.

First bite: It's so disgusting I really could weep. To be fair, it is edible, it isn't so bad that I literally can't get it down my throat, but that, the fact that I can swallow it without gagging, is all you can say for it, and thinking of the huge pots of deep, dark, rich chilli, aromatic with roasted spices, fresh chilli peppers and garlic, tomatoes, red beans and lean ground beef I used to make and top with handfuls of nachos and sour cream just makes this sad, sad, so so sad excuse that should never go by the name of Chilli Con Carne all the worse.

There are a lot of red beans. Well, there'd have to be. There is ground beef, ground up so fine that it's like the stuff you'd find in babyfood. There are no tomatoes at all. There is a gravy which has been thickened with something, heaven knows what, which has made it gluey, it's absolutely revolting. As for the spices, there is a good amount of cumin but the chilli has been used so sparingly as to be practically non-existent.

About three forkfuls into this lamentable concoction the serious thought hits me: why am I eating this shit? I mean seriously, why am I putting this in my mouth, it's horrible. I stop eating and think. I'm a Gourmande, I'm passionate about food. When I could do it I was an ardent cook, the pleasure of putting something good in front of someone I love was one of my keenest joys in this world. Now I can't do that anymore, like so many other things. Now, by my own choice, food comes out of a few plastic trays and packets and it's this, pressure cooked slop that dares, dares to call itself chilli?

I think for about thirty seconds I seriously contemplate scraping this nightmare on a plate into the bin and, just for one night, having a pizza and enjoying it. But I don't. I think of my six days' unblemished record, of the rings loosening ever so slightly on my left hand, of the way I can feel my internal earth shifting, and I grit my teeth and go on shoveling until all the mess is gone. It's a victory. That and not crying when I was being driven mad by the smell of pizza today, I think I've earned two points, but I'm still feeling grey, cross with myself that I still wobble as much as I do. I wish I were mentally stronger.

Well, the evening went on, not much to tell, at nine I had my cup of tea and some sweet popcorn and now I'm writing this. An up and down kind of day like I said, and, now I come to think of it, I came out on top, but I do really still have stuff to work on. I really must, must get over this pizza thing, it's so annoying and makes me feel so bad about myself.

Tomorrow's the big test. Noble husband is away for the day, he leaves long before I even get up and won't be back till late afternoon. I have to take care of myself. Usually, when he's away, I stay in bed, with snacks to hand and a bottle of water. That way I know I'm safe, I won't fall down, spill or drop anything or generally get into any mischief, or, more seriously, a potentially hazardous situation. This time, Karen will get me up and do breakfast, but I have to manage my own lunch and drinks, which means I can't have tea, I do not dare touch that kettle with him not there, the thought of it scares me to death. Thank God for mineral water, but it's not filling like hot tea is. Hey ho. I have to make sure I make myself get my lunch and not skip it, though I'll be tempted to. This might sound daft, but when he isn't here I tend to go into dormouse mode in case I fall down or something goes wrong. Maybe it will do me good to push my boundaries a bit and see how much I can do for myself, while still staying safe, we're not going to do anything stupid like lift that kettle that weighs half a ton. I have butterflies in my stomach at the thought of being here on my own and having to do a fair bit of moving about, I don't mind telling you, but I need to get used to this. Well, I'll have to be brave and face it tomorrow and we'll see how it works.

Goodnight everyone.

Food eaten today.

Breakfast: Treacle Pecan Granola, no fat, plain natural yogurt, black coffee.

Lunch: Sweet Potato and Coconut Soup.

Dinner: Chilli Con Carne, serving of microwaved spring greens.

Snack: Slightly Sweetened Popcorn.

Drinks: Tea, no milk or sugar.

Bad? no.

Are you hungry? Yes.

Mood: Worried.

Music: Blue Cantrelle, Hit 'em Up Style.