So, I’m trying to lose my grief weight and it’s not easy when the deeper I get into my 40’s my metabolism seems to slow at a logarithmic rate. Give up wine.. no. Give up white sugar, mostly I can do that, fine. Exercise, fine, helps stop the voices in my head. So, I needed another restriction. I chose no white flour. No pasta, pizza, that’s tough. But, I’m really missing it in the morning. Bread products are the only things that settle my tummy in the morning and they are quick.
I can have very vivid romantic dreams. It’s the safe way to cheat when you are married. Well, two night ago I had a very explicit dream…about a buttered bagel. It was warm, shiny, I couldn’t wait to eat it. I woke up and it was like I had been with Idris Elba or Scott Foley. Oh, I just want to get thin enough to eat it for real!
My body might be getting adjusted to it’s new simple carb deprived body. I had a fantastic dream with George Clooney. We were in that new dating, flirting mode that I can distantly recall. I ran my hand up under his shirt. He was smiling. It was on. Next thing I knew I was trying hang gliding and Mark was telling me to get up. “it’s 7:30!” My alarm went off at 6:50.
“Leave me alone” I wanted to savior the last few minutes I squeeze out of my dream brain.
In the kitchen I sleepily made some unsweetened oatmeal. Thinking of the man of my dreams and the bread product of my dreams.