Tuesday, December 10, 2002
coffee lament: I am making myself a nice cup of tea. yet another.
I have realised that being pregnant, or trying to be, will put off-limits just about everything I like to eat at the Victoria Market. not the fresh stuff, of course. but the deli halls stacked with soft cheeses, dolmades, interesting cold meats, smoked salmon and readymade dips just look like Listeria Central now. I don't think I should even eat the grilled sausages that are just about my favourite lunch ever.
and the coffee! an early start this morning, and a quick market run to get supplies, in the spirit of trying to eat well (last night was an utter failure in that regard - tinned soup! (and scrambled eggs) and I'm trying to make up).
normally I'd finish the trip with a rich, creamy latte to get me going for the day, and God knows I need it; I'm tired, not keen on work and woke up at 5.30 am. but there's still a good chance that this top-quality Grade One embryo is trying to attach itself to my insides. and coffee's Bad, isn't it?
if you'd seen me standing by my car, keys in hand, you'd never have known that I was going through a massive inner struggle. I unlocked the car. locked it. got in. sat there. started it. turned it off. then, with a mighty burst of willpower and self-reproach, I started the engine and drove off, coffee-free.
this tea tastes like dishwater.
I have realised that being pregnant, or trying to be, will put off-limits just about everything I like to eat at the Victoria Market. not the fresh stuff, of course. but the deli halls stacked with soft cheeses, dolmades, interesting cold meats, smoked salmon and readymade dips just look like Listeria Central now. I don't think I should even eat the grilled sausages that are just about my favourite lunch ever.
and the coffee! an early start this morning, and a quick market run to get supplies, in the spirit of trying to eat well (last night was an utter failure in that regard - tinned soup! (and scrambled eggs) and I'm trying to make up).
normally I'd finish the trip with a rich, creamy latte to get me going for the day, and God knows I need it; I'm tired, not keen on work and woke up at 5.30 am. but there's still a good chance that this top-quality Grade One embryo is trying to attach itself to my insides. and coffee's Bad, isn't it?
if you'd seen me standing by my car, keys in hand, you'd never have known that I was going through a massive inner struggle. I unlocked the car. locked it. got in. sat there. started it. turned it off. then, with a mighty burst of willpower and self-reproach, I started the engine and drove off, coffee-free.
this tea tastes like dishwater.
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