I was careful all day yesterday and, by 11:30 p.m., was under my point allocation for the day. I spent most of the evening watching the men's short program on the Olympics and that took my mind off nighttime eating...my problem zone.
I went down to the kitchen at 11:35 p.m. to unload the dishwasher. There, on the stove, was a pot of pasta, left there for my nephew who said he would be downstairs later to eat it. I figured he was not coming for it and started to pour it into a storage container.
As I was doing that, the last male skater took to the ice. I didn't know this skater and all the ones I cared about already had skated. I concentrated on my chores.
I knew I had a couple of points to spare and took one forkful of pasta. It wasn't as good as I thought it would be, but I finished the bite.
The skater finished his program. "How many points?" Harrison asked me. We often try to guess what the judges will give the skaters for points.
I have no idea. I'm not paying attention, I said.
"You HAVE to pay attention!" he demanded.
I looked up at him. You are taking this too seriously, I said.
"And you're not taking this seriously enough!" he said.
You're getting crazy about this, I said.
"You were doing so well" he said.
And then we looked at each other and realized we were talking about two different things: He was asking about my Weight Watchers point consumption and I thought he was asking me about the skater's score.
We had a good laugh and closed up for the night.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
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