1. The first step to blowing Lent is to make a vow (resolution? promise? goal-oriented statement?) about what you plan to give up for Lent.
This was mine:
OH, POOR MISGUIDED SOUL. And of course I sent it to MY HUSBAND, who was probably falling out of his chair with laughter because, as we all know, I am not the best at following through with my goals.
2. Leave school on an empty stomach. Like an idiot.
3. Start thinking about food before you are even out of the parking lot.
4. Pick up daughter from daycare. Realize that she smells slightly of macaroni and cheese. Consider what your next move might be if you were prone to cannibalism.
5. Do not eat daughter.
6. Pull up to Intersection of Death, so named for the McDonald’s and Zaxby’s that beckon to you every afternoon, luring you in with their promise of grease and fried things, like some kind of cheese-laden Sirens.
7. Mentally scroll through the list of menu items you could get from each place. A Big Mac? Some Nibblers? And fries, OH THE FRIES.
Suddenly you remember the Wendy’s incident, and the memory of how much you hated yourself on that fateful afternoon gives you the strength to keep driving.
8. Floor it past both establishments with your stomach growling and your mouth watering. Try to remember what kind of snacks you put in Baby Girl’s diaper bag last week. Decide that you cannot look for them without wrecking your car, and even if you could, pureed green beans doesn’t sound so great.
Not nearly as great as a Big Mac.
9. Feel sorry for yourself. Consider turning around.
10. Do not turn around because Baby Girl is tired and has decided that this is the perfect time to start communicating, via earsplitting screeches, the depth of her exhaustion.
11. Hoof it to your house. Get Baby Girl in bed and congratulate yourself on arriving home with no fast food. Now you can make a healthy snack, something that will actually give your body vitamins instead of ammunition for heartburn.
12. Open the refrigerator and look for Healthy Things.
13. Discover package of cookie dough you bought last week and forgot about.
14. Stare at cookie dough.
15. Stare at cookie dough.
16. YEARN FOR COOKIES.
17. Tear package apart like ravenous wildebeest and throw cookies on cookie sheet. Shove cookies in oven with no regard for level of pre-heatedness. Set timer.
18. Make cheese omelet that is more cheese than omelet. Why stop now?
19. Eat omelet while cookies bake.
20. Stare at oven timer, willing it to go FASTER FASTER FASTER.
21. Timer goes off! Eat three cookies. Hate yourself because your body doesn’t process sugar well and YOU KNOW THIS. That’s the reason you decided to give up sugar in the first place. What is wrong with you?
22. Feel gross and sad. Your first-ever attempt at Lent has crashed and burned in the first twenty-four hours.
23. Swear you’ll try again tomorrow.
24. No, really.