Wednesday, December 1, 2010
This is the devil. This and, mostly the rest of that storebought pumpkin pie that's still sitting in my 'fridge. I'm not going to go get the pumpkin pie so I can take a photo of it. You know what a pumpkin pie looks like, don't you? Also, I'm not going near it because, . . . you guessed it: the Devil is still calling out to me.
Doggone it! I knew better. True confessions here -- I didn't even read the labels. I'm not going to now either. Suffice it to say, no more storebought sweets for me. Why did I go there? The fun, the comaraderie, the joy of being with my family and my parents over the Thanksgiving holiday. Meats don't tempt me, cheeses don't tempt me. Sugar doesn't even tempt me either -- usually. Since going vegan I eat sugar (vegan treats) only once in a blue moon, since I know there is that chance I will feel the pull again. Heck -- I wasn't even tempted by all the Halloween candy. So why did I think it was okay to indulge in sweets of an unknown origin and content, not once, but one or two times a day, for 4 days straight? My system went out of whack a little on the second day of this indulgence, and has continued to get worse ever since. No need for details -- I just don't feel good. Once I figured out what was making me feel bad I stopped it, and it has now been three days since then. It has stopped getting worse, but I'm still not right.
Turning a page, forgiving myself, I need to frame this debaucle thus: missteps are how we learn our limits. Being vegan is only ten months old for me now and everything has changed so dramatically. This is truly the first time I have tried sweets I wasn't sure were vegan, and this was also the first time I have tried so many sweets, so often. I will not repeat this mistake. I've cleaned up my act a bit, leaning more superhero. Any suggestions for how I can feel better sooner? I'll start with a kukicha tea with ume plum and ginger. Thanks for witnessing my folly, dear readers, it'll keep me accountable next time I venture off the healthy path . . .