Ash Wednesday

It’s Ash Wednesday. We Catholics are supposed to be fasting (and on all Fridays during lent), but those of you who know me, know what I’m like when I’m hungry. It’s not pretty. I figure God would rather me NOT fast, it’s sort of like doing a good thing for humanity, me eating. No one has to deal with the crankies.

In addition to the fasting, there’s a no meat rule for today and Fridays. Now, I would assume that if you’re fasting, then the no meat thing doesn’t even need mentioning, but maybe I just don’t understand. Whatever the actual rule is, it doesn’t put much pressure on me because in the best interest of my husband and coworkers, I will not be fasting, and, for the last 12 years, I’ve been a strict vegetarian.

It’s been a joke for the last few years that I should give up meat for Lent (Or drugs, smoking, and many other things I don’t indulge in anyway), but really, I do want to be involved, make a sacrifice, you know?

So, I am substituting diet sodas for meat.

I drink a lot of soda. Diet, store brand cola, Safeway makes the best, but you can’t get them here. You should see our recycling. I’m actually doing better now; I’ve cut back to something like 4 or 5 a day. My hubby insists I should drink water, but it’s hard. I’m very much addicted. I tried to give them up once, cold turkey, I don’t remember why, but I won’t do it again! The nerves, the headaches, I imagine it’s like a smoker trying to quit. My husband and I have come to terms with the fact that I am a soda-holic and now we just live our lives accordingly. We never fall below 6 in stock at the house and I keep a supply at work.

My husband even bought me a mini-fridge stocked full of diet soda for our bedroom, although I actually think it was more for him than me, since it’s common for me to need a soda as soon as we start drifting off to sleep. “Baby… Are you awake?” Quiet grunt from the hubby, who knows what’s coming, “Um… Would you please go get me a soda? I love you…” The good husband he is, he would crawl out of bed and go downstairs where the dogs sleep. I’ll write about the dogs some other time, but it’s sufficient to say that by the time hubby came back with my soda, he’d be covered in scratches and slobber. Thus, the mini-fridge was purchased. (Boy, when I look at it that way, I’m a real be-och for asking in the first place…! Sorry babe!)

Tonight after work, my hubby and I are going to get our ashes. He had PB&J for lunch instead of turkey.

I’m drinking cranberry juice.