An ongoing quest for the meaning of life.  Does true happiness exist in a Tory Burch turquoise-trimmed sheath, a MarieBelle Dark Chocolate Croquette bar, a rose garden, a rocky Maine beach, a daughter's eyes, an inky star-sprinkled sky, hours of computer keystrokes that tell a story--or all of the above? 

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Tuesday, October 27, 2015

Damage Control

Darn it.  Made a poor Fritos choice--on impulse.  I feel sick today with a cold and had to scoop Punch early from school for a hard-to-get dr appt.  Add to that, a worker from Child Protective Services had to meet up with us there and have me fill out some paperwork at the dr's office.  Ugh. 

Then: Punchy proceeded to act up after brief chat with doctor.  While we waited for nurse to roll in her cart and check vital signs, Punch donned disposable gloves and took a couple of alcohol pads to wipe my arm for imaginary shot.  Then tried to grab many more pads and I told her no and she grappled with me. 

We were ready to leave when I remembered we didn't get the letter the dr.  dictated.  While waiting for that, Punch bit herself and tried to bite me--she and her friends are into vampire stories and books.  When I refused to let her bite my shins, she rolled around on the waiting room floor.  I was embarrassed and angry, even ashamed, but thankfully, at that point, the waiting room was empty. 

Driving back, I saw a food mart by a gas station.  I had a salty junk food urge.  I got the first bag of Fritos I saw and unfortunately, it contained four 160-calorie servings and I ate all of them.  Standing up in the store.  A well-dressed woman about my age in a nice black cloaky coat was looking at me.  Must have thought I was unhealthy, unstable or both, I suddenly felt way overweight.  Like a loser.  Note to self: Eating crap quickly leads to crappy self-image. 

Now: We're at the Montclair Public Library to renew books and so Punch can do her math homework. 

2 comments:

I also had a cold over the weekend and succumbed to eating an entire bag of Twix bits.  Excuse: feed a cold (chocolate?).  Ugh!  Back on the junk food wagon again.  You are not alone in your struggles, Alice.  Love, Lin

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About Me

My name is Alice and I've been writing for most of my life--first in a little green five-year diary my friend Lorraine gave me for Christmas in 6th grade, then for newspapers, magazines, websites and companies.  I've been blogging here daily since Feb. 2010, trying hard to write truthfully, even when it's scary.  My husband and I are both freelance writers, so sometimes we can afford salmon for dinner and sometimes we can't.  Two daughters under our roof, one studying biology [blog name Figgy] and one to whom we are legal guardians [blog name Punchy], age 11.  It's our journey.  Hard at times, sweet and funny at others.  Reach me at alicehurley@aol.com.