Yeah, Iím a rebel. Thatís right. I broke all my own rules today. I guess that doesnít exactly make me a rebel, just more flexible than I usually am. Thatís what I need to be, it seems, to make everything work. Iím just trying to keep moving forward without getting in my own way. You know. That old bugaboo.
I started the day doing two things I never do on Saturday. Since I was tied up yesterday, I worked out on the treadmill this morning, on what is supposed to be my day off from that apparatus. And because I spent a little time last night looking over menus and recipes for the next couple of days, I felt I had to pick up a few groceries today, even if it was a Saturday. Which it was, but I went to the market anyway. For once, though, I stayed true to my list and didnít get distracted by fancy baubles.
The other new thing I did this morning was the result of the fact that Saturday is the day I sleep in. Sunday is also the day I sleep in, but Iíll get to Sunday when the time comes. The thing is, the book suggests making big breakfasts on the weekend. I was supposed to have something this morning called Migas Especiales, which would have involved pressing tofu and sautťing vegetables.
Thatís just not what I want to do first thing in the morning, so I went to one of my favorite weekday breakfasts instead. I arbitrarily opted for a grapefruit and whole wheat toast. It was just right for a late, lazy Saturday morning. It didnít take up the whole morning, and it didnít fill me up so much that I couldnít have my usual big lunch. Itís good to know I can go wild like that, and willfully choose to ignore the book. I wouldnít want to do it too often, though. Iím not that much of a rebel.