What I Ate Wednesday


Sometimes I’m a killjoy at parties.

Don’t get me wrong… I don’t mean to be.  I love parties.  But imagine this: we’re all standing around, plates in hand, making small talk.

“So what do you here, Rebecca?”

“Well, just call me Bex. I’m a dietitian.  I…”  But whatever I was going to say is lost in the blaze of panic that ensues from my statement “I’m a dietitian” and I see eyes flitting from plate to plate, making instant comparisons.  And all of a sudden I find myself standing alone with my plate of… whatever it happens to be… again.

Let’s get something straight here… …

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