Ugh. Guys. Sometimes I am a hot mess.
Tonight, Chelsea is working late (11:30 PM) and so I’m here alone. Which is totally fine. But here’s the thing — I plan our weekly meals so that certain portions last a certain amount of days. I do not like to mess with that system. And so when she isn’t here for dinner, I usually make something different and strange for myself. That’s how all that quinoa experimentation has been happening.
Tonight’s effort started out so admirable that you’d swear I was out to win the Nobel, but I’ve just tasted my results and let me just say, it is not a recipe I’m going to be sharing here on this blog. ‘Tis no bueno.
Now, that being said, my mysterious dinner will be 7PP tonight. Back in the day, when Chelsea was working, I’d go to Jimmy John’s or Panera or McDonald’s (OH GO AHEAD AND HATE IT’S NOT LIKE YOU HAVE NEVER EATEN THERE) or whatever and pick something tasty up to eat by myself, propped up with a diet soda and a binge-marathon of SVU. Oh, and when I say “Back in the day” I mean as recently as December, so, like, I am not out of the woods quite yet, my lovelies.
But what I’m saying is, I’m kind of pleased that even if it tastes super weird, I set out to make an ambitious and healthy meal that had a very reasonable PP value. And it’s what I’m eating. Even though no one is here to watch me. Even though there’s no one to bear witness to whether or not I eat ten cookies, or sneak some fries, or whatever. It’s just me and the cats. The cats and I, rather. And I still made a good choice.
The second thing that makes this a pleasing fact for me is that I’m very stressed tonight. I’ve got a TON of work I’ve been doing for school, am tired from a long day today, AND have lost my mega-nice Burberry wallet and all its contents, and so had to go to the DMV for a new license and had to cancel all my credit cards, etc. Like, I am stressed.
And Taco Bell sounds like THE. BEST. IDEA. EVER. to me tonight.
Yet what am I eating? Broccoli, and a bunch of other stuff that I’m omitting because I never want you to try and make this thing I’m eating because I care about you too much.
Whether or not these choices of mine reflect a change in waistline (yet), they certainly reflect a change in attitude and a change in what I value.
And despite how frazzled I am, I’m feeling kind of good about at least that much.