Yesterday was my first day back to work after six days off for the Thanksgiving break. I had slid into a delicious schedule of waking up whenever I wanted, going for long walks in the redwoods, and eating whenever I felt like it.
I wasn't ready to go back to work. I wasn't ready to think ahead or to plan for what I might need at three o'clock when it was only 10 AM. And after a week away from work, there were none of my usual staples in the fridge, no individually wrapped string cheese, no fruit, no left overs from last night's dinner or yesterday's lunch. I cleaned it all out so as to avoid the growth of strange science projects while I was away.
So when three o'clock rolled around, and I had a little break between clients, the only thing in my office was a granola bar. Better than nothing, but not by much. When my day ended at 4:30 PM, I was long past being hungry and in that fugue state where it's probably not even safe to drive, let alone order in the drive-through.
If I'd had my wits about me I would've headed straight to food, without a thought to the “healthiness,” or “good for-you-ness” of that particular food. But my wits however had gone missing. And I found myself driving to my local produce store – a great place to find heads of broccoli, bunches of kale, and even a juicy pear, but in my hunger driven dementia, all I could think was that I had pears at home, so why would I want to buy another one. And it was cold, and I wanted to eat something hot.
So I left the produce store, even hungrier, and headed to Trader Joe's, realizing on the way there, that while they would have delicious things to heat up once I got home, I would have to get home and heat them up. Fortunately I have recently discovered a little hole in the wall right across the parking lot from Trader Joe's–a place where they serve all kinds of sandwiches and… soup. Hot, delicious soup.
That day they had both vegetarian minestrone and minestrone with meatballs. This is exactly what I needed. Hot soup filled with veggies and beans and yummy little meatballs. My tummy was so excited, it couldn't wait. And so I sat in the car, blowing furiously on the hot soup, desperate to get it into my body as quickly as possible. It was truly delicious. Within several spoonfuls, my hunger pains started to subside and I thought, “now I can drive home.”
Having allowed myself to go for that long without eating had not only taken a toll on my ability to think, it apparently wrecked a little havoc on my fine motor skills. So when I went to put the lid on the soup I found it slipping from my fingers. As the first scalding drops hit my lap, my hands instinctively moved as if to throw the soup out the window of my car. The window being closed meant that the soup coated half the window, the door, the door handle, the armrest, the lock button, the window button, the map compartment, the trunk release, the gas cap release. Several meatballs and kidney beans managed to ricochet onto the back seat and rear floor mat.
I got myself home, where my husband, bless his intuitive heart, somehow knew that I would be in need of sustenance. I stripped off my minestrone soaked clothing, and sat down to a plate of his stirfried chicken and veggies before mustering the strength to assess the damage to my car. The spilled soup had the consistency of very moist refried beans and the smell of an Italian restaurant. It took about a half an hour and a half roll of paper towels to get most of it up.
This morning I took my clothes to the cleaners, and my car to be detailed, bringing the total cost of my soup to about $130.
After nearly sixteen years of demand-feeding, you'd think I'd have it down by now. I guess there is always room for more growth. Arggh. I'd like to say "lesson learned," but I know better. So I will just say, lesson reinforced. And now I will go make myself a bag of lunch and snacks for tomorrow :-).
