By Elizabeth Berg
Now with an extra story
Every from time to time, correct in the midst of a regular day, a girl kicks up her heels and commits a small act of liberation. What may you do when you may shed the “shoulds” and do, say—and eat—whatever you actually wanted? move AWOL from Weight Watchers and spend a complete day consuming each factor you will have? commence a relationship carrier for individuals over fifty to reclaim the razzle-dazzle on your life—or your marriage? search convenience within the face of getting older, search for love in the middle of loss, locate friendship within the such a lot excellent of areas? In those attractive, humorous tales, Elizabeth Berg takes us into the center of the lives of ladies who do these kind of issues and more—confronting their real emotions, wishes, and joys alongside the way.
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Additional resources for The Day I Ate Whatever I Wanted: And Other Small Acts of Liberation
Just start the relish tray. Give them that. All you have to do is take off the plastic wrap. ” He turns around and heads back downstairs, shaking his head. ” Helen says and returns to the storage closet. She sits down and leans against a large cardboard box, crosses her ankles and closes her eyes. ” and the low tones of Earl answering. ” What is it with these people? Don’t they have anything else to talk about? Has the art of conversation disappeared entirely? Well, yes. Yes, it has—Helen knows the answer to that question.
At Ralph Lauren she’d found a pair of stunning black heels and a V-neck silk blouse, a wonderful eggshell color, so elegant, only a sliver of it would show. Tomorrow it would all go back. She felt a little bad about that, but that’s what they got for being so expensive. She’d been to a makeup counter for the application of a good twelve products, none of which she had purchased, and she’d gotten an elegant little bottle of Chanel No. 5, which was what she’d been wearing when she met him, and which he’d said he loved.
Duh . ” with such innocent triumph and joy that Helen can only stare into her lap, ashamed, and wait for it to be over. On and on it goes. And each time it is her turn she is silent. ” Then she starts thinking, Well, 50 t h e day i at e w h at e v e r i wa n t e d for heaven’s sake. How bad can it be. It’s just a game, look how the grandchildren are enjoying it. And so when her turn comes around again and they are at “W,” she says, “Okay, I’ll do one. ’ . . ” Rolf says. “Because they are able to breathe out of water,” Helen tells him.
The Day I Ate Whatever I Wanted: And Other Small Acts of Liberation by Elizabeth Berg