Sunday:
Crab legs – broccoli – corn on the cob

Monday:
Breakfast – hard boiled eggs – tomato juice
Lunch – Lean Cuisine
Dinner – Ginger Grilled Pork Loin – apple sauce – green beans

Tuesday:
Breakfast – yogurt
Lunch – Lean Cuisine
Dinner – Lime Grilled Chicken with Cuban salsa – rice

Wednesday:
Breakfast – hard boiled eggs – tomato juice
Lunch – sandwich – berries
Dinner – Caribbean Pork – sliced tomatoes – yellow rice

Thursday:
Breakfast – yogurt
Lunch – sandwich – pickle
Dinner – Ginger Chicken with snow peas – bread sticks – sliced tomatoes

Friday:
Breakfast – yogurt
Lunch – Lean Cuisine
Dinner – Fajitas – California Caviar

Saturday:
Breakfast – Cereal
Lunch – sandwich – pickle
Dinner – Tortilla Soup

31stMay

Make a plan

I know I’m in the abyss.  I also know I can’t climb out without a plan. I’ve been in this Hell hole for three years or so and I’ve become used to it.  There are problems, of course.  I’m weak, I’m exhausted all the time, I’m very uncomfortable in my body. I know what I have to do but it’s so difficult to get back into healthy habits.

I’m in so deep it’s going to take a lot of hard work to find my way out but I need to get started.  Donnie has been gone almost a year and I’ve let my grief bury me.  My emotions are flat.  I don’t have any passion for anything. I know that I will never be the same person I used to be but surely, I can do better than this.

Just a simple plan to get started.  That’s all I can handle right now.  So, here’s my plan:

Get showered and dressed no later than an hour after I wake up.

Weigh myself every day.

Post everyday.

Make a menu for the next week and get some healthy food in here.

Listen to music.

That’s it for now.  It’s a start.

28thMay

Pieces

I’m still grieving.  I’ve come to realize that I’ll probably be grieving the rest of my life.  Everything reminds me of Donnie.  I can’t listen to the radio without starting to cry.  Certain movies, certain places, certain people and it all comes down on me.

I’m trying to clean out our bedroom closet.  On the top shelf, I found a box of old newspapers.  He saved certain ones.  Two or three days of when we declared war with Iraq, two or three issues when Princess Di was killed, a few issues when a local factory burned to the ground.  Papers that meant something to him and I can’t bring myself to throw them out.

Every time I toss out some of his junk I feel like I’m throwing away a little piece of him.  All those little pieces and each one hurts and brings the grief back like it happened yesterday.