Day’?s Verse:
I know that there is nothing better than to rejoice and to do good in one’s lifetime; moreover, that every man who eats and drinks sees good in all his labor — it is the gift of God.
Ecclesiastes 3:12-13

Early this week the idea Kidd Valley hamburger popped into my mind, followed shortly by Kidd Valley milkshake. The rest of the week the ideas remained lodged firmly in my mind, so I finally decided to take action: Ian and I went to Red Robbin (Kidd Valley being a Washington-only enterprise) for hamburgers and I also got a shake, in the hopes that actually eating the food of my desire would satiate that desire.

Alas. I drank the whole strawberry milkshake, which was fine but failed signally to measure up to Kidd Valley standards. I then ate half the cheeseburger (I traded out the beef for a gardenburger patty, and found it quite tasty)… and spent the rest of the evening in anguish. Then I remembered why I never feel like restaurant food; why I shrug disinterestedly at hamburgers; why we eat the way we do. The truly disgusting fullness never quite left me all evening, sitting like a ball of lard in the pit of my stomach, mocking me for wanting a fatty restaurant hamburger. Yech. Ian, poor fellow, had to talk at FNF nary an hour after consuming a real hamburger, but pulled it off well despite the fatty wad we consumed earlier. Again: Yech.

The rest of the day went normally eating-wise:
6:05 — Milk and vitamin
8:45 – 9:05 — Oatmeal
10:45 — Banana
11:30 — String cheese
12:35 – 12:50 — Salad
1:00 — White chocolate Hershey bar (not nearly on par with the white chocolate balls)
5:15 – 6:15 — Strawberry milkshake, a few fries, a garden-cheeseburger

In other news, as I sat on the train yesterday morning a freshly-scrubbed young guy in a sport jacket and tie came into the vestibule. I looked at him, thinking he probably was going to ask if there was a bathroom in this car. Instead, he introduced himself as a reporter for the Worcester Business Journal who was on assignment writing an article about the commuter rail, and would I be willing to talk to him a bit? I said sure, put down my Bible and journal, and talked with him about riding the train, commuting with a bike (I had ridden my new bike on the first sunshiny day in a week–still a wonderful experience, by the way), all sorts of train-related things. As the interview closed, he took my picture and said to check the April 30 edition of that publication for the article. I wonder if I’?ll actually make it in?

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