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two slices please.

No, not pizza, although ... YUM. Two slices of bread.  I made a sandwich today. Not a one slice hoping-the-sandwich-stuff-doesn't fall-on-the-plate version, but a two slices kind, one that secures all the good middle stuff.  The one-slice sammy is something super familiar to me, and to be honest has not always been the healthiest choice, emotionally-speaking. It has been a design to keep me "on track", carb-controlling, monitoring all that enters this body. My go-to on managing change, stress, fear ... Old stuff that shows up now and again. More on that in a bit. The two slices for lunch today secured the sandwich stuff and surprisingly also made ME feel secure, held, cozy and present.  Oh bread, you are a great teacher. See, I've spent the better part of my tweendom 'til now counting, monitoring, restricting: How much did I eat? How many calories was that? Do I look OK?  Are they judging me?  Am I judging me? Somewhere along my path I stopped enjoying food, forgo