Tomorrow is the twenty-ninth anniversary of my mother's death. Losing your mother less than three weeks before your seventh birthday is not an easy thing to deal with. But I was thinking the other day about the only real Christmas memory I have from when my mother was alive.
I don't know which year it was, but I remember being really excited. My mother put on a stack of Christmas records (mostly from the Ray Conniff Singers) and decorated the house while doing her baking. I don't remember being excited about Christmas like that since.
Julie wants to go to the movies with me tomorrow, and I don't have a problem with that, but I don't want to spend the entire day with her. I know that she triggers the urges for me to eat compulsively, and that is the last thing I want to do. My weight was at 162.5 pounds this morning, and I feel as if I ate too much at the kabob place with my friend Diane tonight, Kabobs are becoming a Saturday tradition with the two of us, and when it comes to eating, I could do far worse than hunks of meat cooked on an open flame with rice and salad (without dressing).
And if I was able to go eat pizza on Thursday night and actually weigh less on Friday morning, how bad can a kabob be by comparison?
But Julie's idea was for us to spend the entire day together, which would involve spending the day with her mother, and then going to the movies. But that would also include lunch out (temptation) and a trip to the grocery store (more temptation). So I think it is better to meet with her later and catch "Enchanted" then. I don't want to be stressed by her constant fighting with her mother. And no matter what her intentions, Julie and her mother (named Tova) ALWAYS fight.
It is getting late, and I am determined to do walking tomorrow morning, so it is off to bed.
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