Last night, I ordered pizza.

That little statement is actually contrary to a lot of things in my life right now, but it is what I did. Since I moved to Iowa on April 21st of this year, I have not had a single meal delivered to my apartment before last night. Not Chinese, sushi, pizza, or Mexican. And I can't tell you how much I miss the sushi.

I somehow made this drastic change in my life, going from 1-2 a week to once in seven months. I also managed to significantly cut down on my eating out in general. Before I moved, I did it fairly often, if anything to get out of the office. But, since I moved here, I've managed to keep it down to twice per month, once for lunch and once for dinner.

Once per month?

Some days, I wonder who I am and what I have done with myself. Yeah, I'm not losing weight really, but I've actually managed to shove the worse offender of my eating out of my life. And even when I'm stressed, I don't flee for McDonalds like I used to (I love the double quarter pounders).

But, last night, actually this weekend entirely, just ended up with me ordering pizza. True, it will take me at least three days to finish said meal but I felt so guilty for ordering in.

Part of it came from stress. Fluffy called and after talking, we are seriously considering putting our eldest dog to sleep in the next few weeks. He is just so uncomfortable at night, crying for hours and there is nothing we can do about it. I had a minor idea of how to help tonight, we'll see if it makes a difference, but its pretty obvious he is in the twilight of his life. Its just a matter of when.

It hurts that I can't be there for her. She is hundreds of kilometers away and I can't just run over there to hold her. Smokey is her baby and I can only imagine how much pain she is going through. I want to be there, not for saying goodbye, but being there for her. I can't tell if this will be the same as Dante or not, but its definitely a trial for all of us.

And I still feel guilty for ordering pizza.