This morning, I ended up going to work late and spending my morning putting last minute edits on a paper and finalizing my statistics project. While I worked, I cooked three Toaster Strudels for myself and pretended that I was Gretchen Wieners, daughter of the inventor of my current favorite breakfast pastry. The pretending didn’t work, and I still had to fulfill my duties as a graduate student.
(Photo from http://myfunnymemes.com/gretchen-wieners-is-the-proud-daughter-of-toaster-strudel-owner-in-mean-girls/)
In addition to my Toaster Strudel bonanza, I decided after receiving a point off of an assignment (with no comments explaining why) that I deserved to treat myself after class today. I’ve talked about this before, but probably not on this blog: my self care runs the gamut from healthy, active choices like going for a long run and drinking water to destructive yet delicious choices like eating a can of sweetened condensed milk or eating too much fried food. Tonight after class, I picked up Popeye’s chicken for dinner and enjoyed the tenders with fries, a biscuit, and a bourbon and Coke.
For those keeping score at home, that means that in addition to three Toaster Strudels with icing, I had a Popeye’s meal and a cocktail for sinner. Throw the Clif Bar I had for lunch into the mix, and my ability to make adult decisions like “What counts as a proper meal?” could easily be called into question. Yet as I am sitting on my couch and sipping the last of my cocktail, I can’t help but think the dietary choices I made today can’t make my muscles hurt any more than the healthy long run I did on Saturday, and maybe I have actually found a balance. It’s probably better to do the running self care first and the poor dietary choices self care second.
That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.
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