I had a sandwich today. It was horribly amazing, possibly the best thing I’d eaten in a long time. Because I’ve been Paleo for so long, it occurred to me that I would regret this decision as soon as my protruding wheat belly caught up with me. But as the juice from the tomato dripped down my arm and the chewy sourdough of the bread flirted with my taste buds, I was perfectly content in the moment.
I regretted nothing.
Totally absorbed in the decadence of my totally carbed up sandwich, I didn’t need electronic gadgets to amuse me or even someone to keep me company. My book lay closed next to my juicy elbow, and I found solace in staring straight ahead at the waterfalling fountain in front of me. As I sat, the sun gently caressed my back, my crowded mind slowly winding down as my mouth filled with Heaven.