Num

In January, after the hideous blow which began my year, and during the period of shock in which I'd essentially stopped eating, I took a day off work and wandered through some sunshine with my mom. What else we did, I really don't recall anymore - but she took me to lunch at the Mediterranean Deli and Bakery. It was a late lunch, and we had the dining area to ourselves for spinach fatayas and tabouli, and the day was quiet enough at that point that, apart from admiring the food very much, I remember most the warmth of the sunshine, as it made its way in the windows and kept cozy from a day which may well have been much cooler outside.

My brother and his family had been frequenters of the MDB themselves, and mom had entered into the habit with the granddaughters; this visit was, I am sorry to say, only my first.

The place is eight miles out of my way, but its purveyance is so superior to anything else in town (the other Mediterranean deli actually happens to reside in my backyard; and is, amusingly or not, run by a Bosnian who used to work at the MDB out of my way). And so - particularly since they're closed on Sundays (which, residing directly in front of a Presbyterian church as it does, seems to me a mad business decision - heh) - I have to plan hummus and tabouli runs based on my Fridays off, or other vacation time. (Saturdays, most often, are housekeeping days - and fast days, for me, at that.)

Today, I want a run. The trick about this is that I tend to get headaches - every day, yes - and dips in blood sugar can really be painful for me. A delayed dinner means misery, means the poor dog gets shortchanged, means a long night, means I'm one cranky little number by the time I get home.

Ugh, but you know how it is when you want what you want.

Last time I made an MDB run after work, I made it there and out happily, but in the miles toward home, nearly lost it when queasiness took me over and temper got out of hand. By the time I ate, it was too late for my blood sugar - and too late for my poor dog. She did get her full mile walk, but I probably was a meager companion. Dear old darling, she puts up with me anyway.

Today, I've been strategizing. I took a headache cocktail early in the afternoon (one acetaminaphen, one Excedrin-knockoff; and hush hush, my last doc took one look at the brand of headaches I get and said "take what works for you" - quelling my mom's usual protest that my "cocktail" is a bad one), and am now eating a peanut butter granola bar. PB granola has remarkable stick-to-yer-ribs-osity, so I'm hoping it handles the blood sugar business. The caffeinne in the faux-cedrin has got me a tiny bit jumpy - I'm NOT much of a caffeinnator - but it's not tipping me over into woozy territory. And so, I am thinking seriously about a run.

We shall see - as I don't leave for another hour. But at least, by then, traffic should be something like bearable.


Mmmm. What I do for the best hummus in town.

I mean - seriously - do NOT eat that Athenos muck, Fellow Babies. Just do not. Try the real stuff. And you will never go back.