The euphoric high of Sunday Vespers and Monday's Great Canon remained through most of the day yesterday. But now that high is being tested. Monday, the first day of the Fast, all I could think about was food, it seemed. Everywhere I looked--is that a Spree on the ground?--everywhere I walked--why does KFC have to be on the way home?--all around me were reminders of food. Heck, we have two boxes of Girl Scout cookies sitting at home on the kitchen table. Talk about painful!
By yesterday, however, the struggle over food was displaced for the struggle over thoughts. Are you drinking milk? That's not part of the Fast. You're a failure. But Father gave me the okay to do so, for the sake of my pregnant wife! But you're not drinking it when she's around, now are you? Trying to cheat? Trying not to feel hungry? What sort of "athlete" are you? Those thoughts then passed over into more insidious ones. Well, now this is going pretty good, so why don't you add some more rigor to your fast, you know, skip the meal after the Pre-Sanctified Liturgy. No one will know, you can slip quietly out the front door. But the Church says the faithful are to eat after the Liturgy. But you feel stronger know in the Fast. What does the Church know?
Today, having endured all the back and forth, it's just down to plain ol' grumpiness. Everything is just hacking me off. Class is boring. My students just aren't trying, so why not give them one horrible quiz to punish them. Students won't meet me during office hours but want to arrange other appointments. I'll probably be late to services. . . .
How many more days do I have to go here?
Posted by Clifton at March 12, 2003 08:36 PM | TrackBack