It’s Mardi Gras time, which, for a lot of people who don’t know what Lent is, simply means drinking a lot, wearing beads, sounding like a bad rendition of Justin Wilson, and flailing to zydeco.
For me, it means tanking up on sinigang na baboy, because tomorrow I starve.
Okay, technically I’m exempt, since I’m pregnant. But it’ll be Ash Wednesday, and my cradle-Catholic sensibilities don’t feel right if I don’t cut back on the food. Granted, if I have a bad Morning Sickness day tomorrow, the issue would be moot. Heh.
Of course, I’ll be traveling during Ash Wednesday, heading down to College Station, the Land of the Aggies, for a work-related conference once I dismiss my afternoon class. So what with last minutes prepping for that, packing, teaching, and travelling, I’ll have a very active Ash Wednesday. Whether I’m able to keep the fast should be the least of my problems.
To say the least, this Lent will be a little different from previous years. By the time Easter rolls around, I should be in my 14th week, God willing. A festival of renewal and life, indeed.