It's the end of January and the diet is going OK. I'm down a few pounds and my buddy, Will Power, has only let me down twice - once while walking by Mary Brown's in the mall food court, and once at our newsroom's annual post-Christmas party. I don't really know what led to that dietary lapse of reason, but I suspect old Will Power was too busy pumping the keg to worry that I had challenged myself to a jalapeno popper eating contest. Those were the only instances where I dropped off the wagon this month, but there was another time when I came close to caving ... thanks to our weekly garbage collection schedule. And, in the interest of reaching my word count, I'm going to tell you all about it. My wife made me a healthy sandwich with no-nitrate turkey, olive oil-based mayo and cracked wheat bread. (At work, I'd put avocado on it.) The sandwich, avocado, a Greek yogurt, banana and some baby carrots were put in a Sobeys bag and I proceeded out the door. The garbage needed to be bagged before I drove off. After tying a couple of bags containing an assortment of food packaging, dirty diapers and cat litter - yes, I'm living the dream - I hopped in the car and hit the brakes after moving three feet. My lunch had been thrown in the garbage! So began the great debate - fetch the lunch or buy one. The latter option was very appealing after weeks of mostly healthy eating. But then, my wife had made me an awesome sandwich, and besides, it was in a bag and had no direct contact with the diapers or litter. After weighing the pros and cons for a few secs, Uncle Guilty overruled everything and had me picking through the trash to rescue the lunch. The Wet Wipes in my car - there in case the kid throws up - were used to clean my hands and the Sobeys bag carrying my grub. But the thought of buying a junky lunch had been planted in my head and had created an inner racket. "Just get some taters and chicken fingers. C'mon, you can't eat that. It was in the garbage. What's next, dumpster diving?" pleaded my wild side (which looks and acts a lot like Keith Richards). "No, your lunch is still good. It's healthy, and it's already paid for," countered my serious side (which looks and acts, sadly, like Stephen Harper). These two duked it out all morning, and their argument was really distracting. Lunch time was decision time. What to do? What to do? What to freakin' do? In the end, the Stephen Harper-like serious side won, and the healthy turkey and avocado sandwich hit the spot. But since it had been in the trash, I pretended every bite was junk food. Steve Bartlertt dreamed about a Big Crunch sandwich as he wrote this. Email him at sbartlett@thetelegram.com or follow his tweets at SteveBartlett_.
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