I’m retiring my “Vegetarian” t-shirt to my pajama drawer. Today, after close to a year and a half, I had my first hamburger. It would be shameless false advertising if the shirt remains in my repertoire of Friday casual outfits. Congruent to my life running at breakneck speeds, it was imperative that I evaluate my diet carefully. I am dancing more, running around more, sleeping less, which sadly equates to less time in the kitchen preparing hearty healthy meatless meals. Paradoxically, this is the time that I really need more of what I cannot give to myself.
I got really sick early in the year after returning from Asia. I had numerous lab tests done, including a biopsy, to rule out anything concerning, and yesterday, I’ve been released from any suspicions of serious illness.
My stomach is in grumbles after eating the burger and I barely finished the rich strawberry milkshake. The honest truth is, I don’t even like the way my body reacts to meat. While it is temporarily gratifying to eat a hamburger after 1.5 years, the pleasure was irritatingly short-lived.
But still, it remains official. I’m a vegetarian no more. I have been eating a lot more fish and seafood and although “pescatarian” sounds groovy, I don’t want the snobbery of another label.
But do I want another burger? I can do without for another year and a half.
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