I had to do a break with my ongoing diet-plan tonight. And it had nothing to do with a lack of will power either. Funnily, I s’pose. I managed to maintain a significant distance away from the dinner table perfectly well, in keeping with my aim of not eating anything after 4p.m., until 1a.m. at which point I was assigned the august task of stowing away leftover from dinner from the dinner table into the fridge.
The job of clearing the table went without a hitch, and the rest of the task proceeded efficiently until the stage where the food was about to be lovingly placed in the fridge racks, on which it turned out there simply was not enough space.
I had the choice to, a) throw away half the food, some of which was very close to going off anyway, or b) eat my share of dinner, because this is a problem that could be traced back to me, at least partly.
I could have taken the easier option of tossing everything into the bin, but my upbringing by someone for whom the sacrosanctity of food is taken very serious has planted a bit of a seed in my brain that perverts any decision making process which involves wastage of foodstuff.
With that, I ended up with a hearty dinner inside me. Was a bit annoyed. But I have decided there is little good in beating myself over it.
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