I hate how I am slowly moving backwards. I know I am, and yet it seems like I haven’t the strength to put a stop to it. On Saturday, I went to a town about an hour from home to see a comedian perform. First, I went out to eat at Olive Garden with some of my family. Olive Garden is not one of my “safe” restaurants. I’ve only eaten there a few times, and the last time wasn’t the best experience. But, that was years ago, and I was sure I could handle it now, being the adult that I am. And I did handle it, but I’m not sure how well. I knew going in to the meal that I would simply order something from the kids menu. I do this most places I go, because obviously portions are smaller, and more comfortable for me. So I ordered a pizza, which was delicious, but come on, pizza. At Olive Garden. Everyone else ordered pasta and salads, and ate breadsticks…and there I was with my piddly cup of red grapes and what was probably once a frozen pizza.
I had been anxious about this meal all week. The funny thing is, a meal of a burger and fries, which is surely more fattening and unhealthy, wouldn’t have been met with quite so much resistance by me. I think this may be a conspiracy against me to keep me from trying new things. Hello! Calories are not gonna kill me! I know this, and yet I still get freaked out so easily. I had a purse full of snacks, and the promise of a small dessert at home, so I wasn’t too concerned with portion sizes, though those breadsticks did look heavenly. But nope, I wasn’t going to touch them. Or the salad. Order what you’ll eat and eat what you’ll order.
I survived the meal. And then on to the event center, where I would get into an elevator packed with people, and suddenly feel panicked by how stuffy the small space was. What if we got stuck? The oxygen already seemed spare, we would start to panic, and everyone would die. Out of the elevator, and walking. Down hallways…walking…to the desk where our tickets were supposed to be. I told the woman behind the counter my name, and she typed it into her computer. She furrowed her brow and pursed her lips. Then turned her back to me and flipped through a box, pulling out a stack of five tickets stapled together. She handed them over and I clutched them to my chest. We were in. I had made it through dinner, and had the tickets in hand. This was real and I was OK. Time to enjoy myself.
And I did. I managed to have a wonderful time, and laugh really hard, even though last week had been a bit on the crappy side. And now I am gearing up for a trip waaay up North with my sisters, to a cabin that our aunt and uncle own. I am so excited, not only because it means a break from work, and a “real” vacation, but also because ever since I have tried to get a little better, I have felt this pull to get out and do things. I haven’t yet, not really. Now here is my chance, and we shall see how I do. I hope to get a ton of relaxation and reading done.And I also hope that it is really warm and sunny, so I can soak up this weather before winter arrives again.