Journey

I still haven't overcome that fear.  Of criticism, of failure, of not being good enough at this.  I wonder though if it's not one of those things that goes away with time?

In other news, I've given up red meat as of a couple of weeks ago.  I need to be healthier.  I haven't missed it one bit.  It has led to this, though....

Today my mother took a bag of chicken breasts out of the refrigerator to prepare the chicken to make chicken salad, one of my very favorite things.  The thing is, the bag had a good inch of blood on the bottom.  Blood.  Do I want to eat something that has blood leaching from it?  Blood dried and cooked inside of it?  I walked in the kitchen.  There sat the chicken breasts, with the skin still on.  I could see where the feathers had been.  I could see it's bones.  I could smell the blood and the flesh.  Why have I always thought that it was normal to eat that?

I'm not saying that I'm never going to eat chicken again, but I can tell you that I didn't touch that chicken salad.  And that when I made tonight's panko-crusted chicken for dinner, I didn't take one bite.  I just couldn't.  I'm curious to see where this journey leads...