Trying to live healthy. A hummus-cucumber sandwich for breakfast, whole-wheat pasta with chickpea alfredo-type sauce and steamed broccoli for lunch with a cookie for dessert, a large salad with olives/sunflower seeds/corn for supper. No snacks, plenty of water. Tomorrow I will wake up early enough to exercise.
In all honesty, I'm tired (not enough sleep over the weekend) and grumpy because I want to eat carbs in the evening. I want bread. If I could eat bread three times a day I would be happy. My mom would tell me that means I'm addicted to carbs. Maybe I am, or maybe it's just that they fill my stomach and keep it from grumbling and making me feel horrible whenever I try to eat healthier.
I think this is the hardest part of it all--of healthy living. It's getting past the voice in my head that says, "You're miserable, this could end very quickly if you exercised your free will and buttered up a slice of bread with lots of jam or put a slice of your favourite vegan cheese on a sandwich with lots of vegenaise. You deserve it. . ." The voice that calls for longevity, fitting into my skirts and pants and cute dresses again, feeling good about myself, and knowing I'm doing the right thing? That voice is the softest of whispers right now. . .
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