I’m scoffing down pasta as I type this, completely unable to remember why I ever ate any animal products. A lot of the books I’ve been reading and things I’ve been trying to change since new year are starting to become connected to each other. Before buying or preparing food I’ve been thinking about what ‘sparks joy’ thanks to Marie Kondo and what ‘adds value to my life’ thanks to The Minimalists. I’ve realised that even the foods that do spark joy often only do so for a little while. A huge cheesy pizza is the only non-vegan thing I really fancy (thanks to a table full of it at roller Derby party tonight!) but as much as I always enjoyed pizza, I felt bloated, stuffed, lethargic and guilty soon after eating it. There’s no joy in that. We’re going to make pizza from scratch tomorrow, as the kids love doing that, and I’m going to give it a go with some Violife vegan cheese Trevor picked up for me. However, I know that even if it tastes amazing I’ll feel rubbish after eating it. If it doesn’t work out it’s no biggie. I can live without pizza. I never thought I’d say that.
Saturday 28th January
I’ve barely eaten today and I’m not hungry at all. I’m not sure what that’s all about. I don’t mean to skip meals, but I noticed today that I don’t snack constantly anymore and that’s a great thing!
We did make pizzas this evening. After helping the kids with the dough and toppings, it was about 2 hours into pizza making when I finally got to eat mine. I didn’t really want it. Didn’t fancy it at all. Then the Violife cheese wasn’t all I’d hoped it would be and I couldn’t eat it anyway. I reckon it would have been nicer with just the sauce and vegetable toppings. I didn’t need the cheese at all. Next time I don’t think I’ll bother with it. Whilst the real cheese pizzas were cooking I had no desire at all to give in and eat them. I think I’m over it.