Tonight was parent teacher conferences. Usually we get a sitter and make an evening of it, which is essential because I’m the type of parent who takes every word of what the teachers say to heart, which makes for quite a self-inflicted raking over the coals, generally (especially when it comes to Young J, who has ADHD). I am always armed with tissues and it always takes me by surprise when I am overcome, but that tends to happen to me a lot when it comes to seeing how many people in the world care so deeply about the humans J and I made. And in this regard their devoted teachers always take the cake.
(Cake. Hmmmm. Now I ponder a bucket list of desired foods, which means foods I can only dream of consuming right now with a bucket close at hand.)
So after a conference double-header J wondered if I was up for going out for dinner. There are so many wonderful grownup restaurants in our neighborhood that we underutilize. But tonight not one of them was going to work, with my extremely restrictive diet. I had a momentary flash of us sitting at the empty Indian restaurant, and then we were actually there – the only patrons, watching a photographer slowly take elaborate photos of what looked to be every item on the menu (especially the fried things, or so it seemed to my bucket list).
I ordered, cautiously, a mango lassi and some rice – at least nominally, two things on the permitted list. I ate the tiniest corner of a papadom and immediately decided that would be very bad, because it tasted too good. I ate rice and sipped my lassi slowly. I had to pack it in after five minutes, and focus on conversation instead of eating.
This isn’t my usual M.O. during a meal at all. I was seeing myself turn into an entirely different person. That has been my feeling since the sickness started, that I’m observing myself cope with this from outside and above. If I’m not up for the humor that usually gets me through, I guess I am finding ways to achieve distance more literally?
I came home, ate some plain poached chicken and a banana, and felt like I’d probably never want to get out of bed. Tomorrow will be better.