Ешь, молись, люби

Chapter 27

           Theirsleevesarerolledupovertheirsweatyforearms,theirfacesredwithexertion,oneeyesquintedagainsttheheatofthefireandacigarettedanglingfromthelips.SofieandIeachorderanotherpie-anotherwholepizzaeach-andSofietriestopullherselftogether,butreally,thepizzaissogoodwecanbarelycope.

           Awordaboutmybody.Iamgainingweighteveryday,ofcourse.IamdoingrudethingstomybodyhereinItaly,takinginsuchghastlyamountsofcheeseandpastaandbreadandwineandchocolateandpizzadough.(ElsewhereinNaples,I’dbeentold,youcanactuallygetsomethingcalledchocolatepizza.Whatkindofnonsenseisthat?Imean,laterIdidgofindsome,andit’sdelicious,buthonestly-chocolatepizza?)I’mnotexercising,I’mnoteatingenoughfiber,I’mnottakinganyvitamins.Inmyreallife,Ihavebeenknowntoeatorganicgoat’smilkyoghurtsprinkledwithwheatgermforbreakfast.Myreal-lifedaysarelonggone.BackinAmerica,myfriendSusanistellingpeopleI’mona"NoCarbLeftBehind"tour.Butmybodyisbeingsuchagoodsportaboutallthis.Mybodyisturningablindeyetomymisdoingsandmyoverindulgences,asiftosay,"OK,kid,liveitup,Irecognizethatthisisjusttemporary.Letmeknowwhenyourlittleexperimentwithpurepleasureisover,andI’llseewhatIcandoaboutdamagecontrol."

           Still,whenIlookatmyselfinthemirrorofthebestpizzeriainNaples,Iseeabright-eyed,clear-skinned,happyandhealthyface.Ihaven’tseenafacelikethatonmeforalongtime.

           "Thankyou,"Iwhisper

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