I am in shark-mode this week. My period is in full swing, and I can’t get enough to eat. Last night I asked my husband to go get me angel food cake, whipped cream, strawberries, and/or brownies, and/or cookies and/or French fries. Luckily for me, he didn’t. So, I ate a bagel with butter and jam. I never understood people who put jam on bagels, because why waste an opportunity to eat cream cheese with jam, but good grief, that is good. Dangerously good, Will Robinson. Today I have a lunch meeting and I ordered a falafel sandwich for myself. Should I have gone with a salad? Yes, but I didn’t. I am so excited for that dang falafel! And tonight, I’m going to an event put on by a local fancy pants chef, where we get to eat tasty little samples of my favorite bad-for-me-but-I-can’t-break-up-with-him-lover, bacon. Baconopolis! My palms get a little sweaty when I think about the bacon carbonara – and the dessert bacon, and sampling bacon by different farmers. All in a lovely venue with my husband and a friend, and a glass of wine. Oh, loveliness.
All this hefty eating should keep the shark at bay, and if it doesn’t someone check me for a tapeworm, because I should not be this hungry. The other thought that lingers is “counting” all of these calories. I had a pleasant weigh in this week, and I know myself, and myself likes to slack off when I’ve had a loss. For some reason I think my diligence can wane, I can relax, because I’ve obviously got this weight loss thing covered. Um, no, you don’t, self. So to make up for yesterday’s and today’s indulgences, I have to be super strict on Saturday and Sunday. I truly believe that it is possible to eat bacon and satisfy a carb craving without guilt, and still lose weight. I can’t deny myself social eating all the time, and the hard part is that I am learning (still) to treat those situations as special, as an exception to the rule, and to re-dedicate myself to good health when that special event is over. Lather, rinse, repeat.