I have fallen off the wagon already. I only just got on yesterday, and already I have failed.

Inspired by dear friend Tasha, I decided to go back to the way of the Catholic and give something up for lent. I thought for a while about giving up chocolate, which is what was given up by her in the story she told that got me thinking about going down this road at all, but decided that would lead to too great a decrease in my overall happiness quotient to seriously consider it. Then I thought about beer, as it would be a good way for me to lead into a lower calorie alcoholic beverage and cut down on uneccessary expenses, but then I realized that St. Patrick's day falls mid-deprivation, so it wasn't really realistic. I then thought about cheese, but why would I do that to myself, really? I did not even for one moment consider popcorn. Let's leave it at that.

I decided to tackle a family-wide 'problem' and give up bread. No bread of any kind during lent. That's 40 days without sandwiches, toast, bagels, pitas - aaack, no schwarma!!!! - etc. I'm pretty sure tortillas are ok, but we'll see how this goes. Tasha says you fast every day except for Sundays during lent, which means that I get to have some bread once a week, but I was thinking I would go all out and institute a hands down not-a-crust-till-April-16 ban on bread.

I did well on day 1. That was yesterday. Had a whole breadless day. Had a whole breadless night. But the night also included the first Wonderful Wednesday since the election, which meant, as it often does, an overindulgence in libations. Thus, when I rolled into work this morning rather significantly later than I ought to have, all I wanted in the world was toast. Some good, whole wheat toast to soak up the remnants of my drink/d'arcy's binge last night.

I pondered my problem as I trundled my way up the hill. We moved last week, so my office is now in an exciting new building with a very exciting new cafeteria. Knowing this exciting new cafeteria had the capability to make divine hangover treatments such as BELT sandwiches, scrambled eggs, omelets, bacon and sausage, and knowing that I needed to feed the hangover before it took over the whole day, I knew I was staring at a difficult decision. I considered going the muffin route, quite seriously thought about redefining bagel as a non-bread substance, and wished that today was Fat Tuesday the rest of the way to work, since my mind would go no place other than that whole wheat toast that accompanies the healthy breakfast for $3.20.

So I cheated. I went down to the cafeteria, ordered my healthy breakfast special of egg white green and red pepper omelet, grilled tomatoes, fruit and scoop of cottage cheese, added a V8, and let the nice lunch lady know that my preference was butter-not margarine-to top those promise-to-the-Higher-Power-breaking pieces of toast. And then I ate them. And they were good. My hang over is now under control. My guilt however, is another story. It is, after all, the Catholic kind....

So I made a kind of deal. I will follow the Tasha model of lent - being allowed to have whatever it is that you have given up on Sundays only - with the exception of this week. This week, this first week and this week only, Sunday came on Thursday.

So this means I get to have subway for lunch, right?