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The snow and the fridge

It calls to you. You walk past and open it, staring blankly into the depths, wondering if there is anything new, if there is anything that calls out "Eat me."  Then you close the door, walk away, maybe to the pantry or other snacky area, looking for you-don't-know-what, walk away again. Maybe you grab that old bag of whateveritis NOW WITH 50% MORE, and you look at it and put it back, and then you walk back over to the fridge wondering if anything magicked itself into existence since 3 minutes ago. Then you close the door again, frustrated, with or without that lone pickle which has been floating in that jar for who-knows-how-long, and go back to working from home and simultaneously watching daytime TV and the snowstorm.

Oh you don't do that? Huh. That just may be me when I am stuck at home, bored but working, hungry but not really, and just a touch stir-crazy.

I woke up this morning, starving, dehydrated, and cranky as hell. I bleary consumed a handful of sesame sticks and a cup of coffee, black, with little thought of 6WBMO. Now, hours later, I feel guilt, am waiting on the fridge magic show (and check back regularly), and am happy my sis had the day off and cooked.

She made lettuce wraps filled with Mexican spiced ground turkey and Spanish rice. No salt, no oil, all fantabulouso!  Add this to the tilapia and grapefruit I had for snack and I am feeling happy and full. I am glad things (like Italian Subs) didn't appear in my fridge today. I feel much better. My mouth is a bit on fire from the filling, but it was so good.

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