Ugh. (10/30)

The only thing I did 'right' yesterday was drink all my water. The 4th of July was a favorite holiday all through my 'growing up' years. But the colour and tone of this particular day changed later in life when it became about...drinking. Not mine necessarily, but everyone else at that particular time of my life with few exceptions hailed this as the party day of the year. It was like the unofficial no holds barred this is our excuse to let go and explode along with the fireworks day. Maybe subconsciously the thinking was that hey, if everyone is looking up, no one will notice all the tomfoolery going on down here. In any case, in the 80's the flavour of this holiday changed from hot dogs to something more bitter and sinister for me. And with H yesterday the only celebrating we did was through food.

I did drink all my water, but skipped breakfast since the house was quiet and I didn't want the angry buzzing of the blender disrupting it. Then at work when I went to refill my bottle, there on the counter of the kitchen was a box of Mrs. Fields cookies. Not big ones, but small half dollar sized morsels, and over the course of the next five hours I had about six. When I reached home there was a bowl of green olive\cream cheese spread to dig into with a box of Ritz crackers. H had created a luscious, salty concoction that I didn't even try to resist, I just jumped in and helped demolish the bowl over the next couple of hours.

Then burgers for dinner - the first one I have had in years - and I was not impressed. I think for me it's all about the condiments when it comes to a burger. Now if I had cooked it out on the grill with the proper seasonings to the proper doneness I might have been singing a different tune, but H cooked mine for me at the kitchen stove and he so rarely contributes to anything cooked fresh in the kitchen I couldn't refuse and hurt his feelings. But it was not the flavourful, juicy patty that I had imagined earlier in the day. And while I was regretting my decision only a couple of bites in, I finished the whole thing. That's me in a nutshell lately, but I'm not going to spend any more time beating myself up about it.

For my contribution yesterday I had picked up a quart of Macaroon ice cream and we split that for dessert. Between the food and the beer I napped and when H woke me up to ask about fireworks I opted for the Macy's show on TV. I had wanted to ride our bikes down to where we might be able to see the display being put on just over the foothills, but that was not going to happen. So I lay like the lump on a log I have been all week and watched a mostly  monochromatic extravaganza that had been taped in New York earlier in the day. So I take full responsibility for this failed holiday, it's all my bad, and just like last year I promise myself that it won't happen again next year.
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