So I woke up feeling good and ready for the day. I stuffed around a bit sorting out my hair and my lunch and ended up running out of time to sort breakfast the way I wanted to, so it was plain oats with hot water, no grated apple today. That’s fine, it’s a snack when I get home now.
About 10am I started to feel hungry. This shouldn’t be the case with such low GI foods, but perhaps I am so preoccupied with knowing that I am not allowed anything that I feel like I want everything. The café in the hospital smelled very inviting. Now, we are talking about a hospital café here, not a French bakery. Hmm.
So I had meetings where I was offered coffee, tea, fudge, cake… you name it. *drool drool* “no thanks, just water for me”.
I imagine these opportunities are a great chance to engage in a conversation about the cause and drum up support, but I just didn’t really feel inclined to talk about food any more than I had to. Spent the remainder of my day looking forward to jam on frying pan bread and half an apple. Oh yeah!!!
And the dilemma… what to do with the horrible soup? I could add the packet of noodles with the flavour sachet to see if that helps. I could go back to the fruit and vege shop with my remaining 1.52 to see if I can get a pumpkin or something. I could try to thicken it with a bit of the flour. But the concern is, what if I then waste the little that I have left by putting it into a soup that remains awful after the addition? I sunk so much of my weekly budget on this one pot of soup thinking it would see me though.
So I got home, looked into the soup pot and out came the terrible smell. I couldn’t face it. Back on with the lid and thinking cap on. I made afternoon tea of frying pan bread and strawberry jam. I must say I spent quite some time just smelling the jam, utterly indulging in the aroma.
A few hours later I came up with a plan to make the soup unrecognisable. I pulled out the veges, whisked 2 eggs and called the concoction a frittata mix. Into the oven, fingers crossed. The mixture made 5 frittatas in texas muffin cups. Thankfully it was utterly delicious. And so was my quarter of a tomato cut up and called salad. And my half an apple for supper was about the best half an apple I’ve had.
Things aren’t looking so grim.