Something about fasting makes me very hungry. I do not mean the act of fasting. I mean the otherwise sated hours preceding a fast. Fully engorged, I stay comfortable when I am struck with a thought. The thought is this: after eight you can have no more food, no more coffee, no more anything, except water... the result, the stifling challenge is realization that donuts, cookies, coffee, and fast food shine like beacons in the night. I need to stop typing so I can take a bite out of a chocolate old fashioned donut, and a sip of outrageously hot coffee.
What happened? What has transpired to make me this way?
Earlier I was thinking about this blog entry where I spoke of my now international accountability group. I spoke of this, wrote of this in the week since my doctor's appointment. I have held onto the fact I was given a lab slip over a week ago, and I had not gone in to get my blood drawn. I have been on the blog of some eighteen year old who wrote of avoiding procrastination. I could try to explain why my procrastination bears all the elements of legitimacy, but I feel my readership would lose respect.
Well, yesterday, I told people I would go to get my blood drawn. I decided this is Monday, and I would have ample opportunity to have the blood drawn before my day ended.
I forgot that getting around would be a challenge, because my bicycle was locked up at work, and had to stop at work to get my paycheck. I had already decided I was too poorly organized to get out to complete my task, and let the phlebotomist puncture my arm. I decided to flake out on the plan.
The bus pulled around a turn, and I could see the roof of Orchard Nutrition Center in the distance while on the side street, I saw a sign which read “give blood today.” It did not say 'give blood'. It did not say “sometime soon”; it said today. I could write about the habits of the brain, and how constant conjunction is a theory that tells me two events happening in close proximity do not have any significance. I wanted to see that sign on the road as my sign. I wanted to say that the constantly conjoined events of my roadside bargaining, and the emergence of that sign evidences that one caused the other. I wanted to believe that that sign was placed there for me.
After I retrieved my check, I went to the clinic. The man took my slip, and raised one eyebrow: “did you have anything to eat or drink today?” I said yes. That was it. I had to come back. I resolved, therefore to fast as commanded between seven tonight, (which is now) and twelve hours from now.
So, for now, I know I just have to relax. I have artificially elevated my blood sugar, and will climb up Market Street to home, and sleep early... This is my report for now .
Thank you for reading.