Kroger no longer carries any varieties of sugar free BBQ sauce...so today I endeavored to make my own. It turned out yummy and now is slowly basting atop some slow cooking chicken drumsticks in my oven. I won't post the recipe here because I want to become famous...ha ha ha... the truth is, I just threw stuff in the pot, after consulting a recipe, and made my own, tasting as I went.
Also necessary, is to find some way of consuming vast quantities of salsa (which is actually a very nutritious food on it's own) without consuming vast numbers of calories. Enter the humble celery stick. Usually accompanied by such high fat or allergenic foods as peanutbutter, pimiento cheese or chicken salad (but not by me), dipping it in salsa is a very nice and light alternative to both the cheeze whiz and the tortilla chips. I'll add this to my list of acceptable late night munchie foods.
Thirdly: I"m desperate. I need new glasses. Closer than a certain twentyish inch distance, the world is a total blur. Further than that same certain distance it rabidly becomes a blur again. And even at twenty inches from my face, I"m experiencing eye strain. Sigh. Cooking today and also reading a good book, and now I feel nauseous and ready to lay down and close my eyes. The rub is, no longer will we walz out and whip out a credit card to pay for such a thing. No, we plan for it, budget it, and THEN buy it...with cash. So I may have to wait a few days. I'll live, and the hubster is hard at work, and we have vision insurance but we have to figure out where to go and how much it will cover, so what more can I ask for? But at any rate, I get to sit around imagining new and chic and trendy glasses...yeah, right. When will I learn that there is no miracle cure for my looks? Not glasses, not a hair cut, not loosing thirty pounds...OK, I'll gladly trade some extra wrinkles for extra body fat, don't get me wrong. Life is just reminding me daily of the ubiquitous ticking clock.
The joke, ultimately, is on me. I used to think I was a very low maintenance sort of gal. But now I see clearly my own flaws, or at least some of them. I'm extremely HIGH MAINTENANCE. My husband laughed out loud when I shared this self discovery with him. I"m sure my parents would, too. I wonder if the fibro has anything to do with that. So, I"m a high maintenance person, who values being low maintenance. My self esteem: can it handle such a blow?