Simple Passover Pleasures

I am not a planner. I tend to do things last-minute. Sometimes that works out and other times not so much.

I ran out of matzoh with three days of Passover to go. I am supposed to be gluten-free or at least wheat free and just finished off box #2 of the spelt matzoh ( the gluten-free matzoh is horrible even for gluten-free stuff).  No problem I thought. There are two grocery stores in the area that cater to Jewish shoppers, at least one must have plenty left.

Stopped at one store this morning on my way to work. I combed the aisles. plenty of regular matzoh, some even whole wheat. No spelt. Anywhere.

I made it through the day on scrambled eggs and potatoes for breakfast and salad for lunch. I needed something crunchy and starchy and I needed it now. The second store had aisles and aisles of kosher for passover product. One entire aisle for matzoh.  Spelt, where are you. I looked and looked and looked again. Nothing. I was forlorn. Then just as I was about to go something caught my eye. One lone box of spelt matzoh peeking out from some other boxes.

I grabbed it. Were there more. No, damn, but at least there was one.

I hate to mix my Jewish holiday metaphors but I need a Chanukah like miracle. I need a box of matzoh made for 1-2 days to last for 3. Then finally as the sun goes down on Saturday night I can order my post Passover gluten-free pizza.

No One To Blame But Me

16 days. Keep that time frame in mind. I will come back to that shortly.

I am often child like. But not in the good, imaginative, whimsical, joyful ways of a child.  When was the last time someone described me as whimsical? No, when I am childlike it is in the tired, crabby, it’s always someone else’s fault kind of way. Especially that latter part. I tend to not take charge of things and then get mad at the world as it passes me by.

No excuses now. I am a bachelor. My wife left.

It is not as if I never functioned alone. I am not one of those guys who went from their mother to their wife never having to cook, clean and generally take care of business. I was a bachelor until 38. Just because it is 17 years later does not mean that I do not have skills.  I have skills.

What I lack for the next 16 days are excuses. That is when she returns and until then my life is mine to manage, to improve, or further screw up.

Tonight is night #1 and I already broke two promises that I made to myself. First no overeating. I have to lose the same 15 pounds that I needed to lose last year at this time. I will look and feel better when I pull that one-off. Promise #2 was a limit of 1 hour of  TV a night. 2.5 hours including a totally useless hour of The Wild, Wild, West (how I used to love that show. Damn cable TV reruns.)

At least before the night ended I gained a modicum of control. I am writing again. That is good. Feels good.

I have a long list of my own to-dos and I know that somewhere on the fridge my spouse left me her list. One at a time.

Some goals. Download  Lightroom, get the forms sent in and to learn the basics of photo editing (at least how to download the 600 pictures sitting in my camera). Fix the new version of Out. Exercise 4 times a week. Stretch every day. Lose 5 of the 15 pounds through portion control and exchanging cookies for fruit. Go through the stacks of mail piled up in the office. Schedule the spin classes. These things alone are far more than what I get done in an average 2 weeks outside of work.

Tune in. See if I write every night as planned. Follow the adventures of Bachelor Man. Better than anything on prime time. I hope.