Sitting here at Golden Corral with my oldest pixie. She had her swim meet and dress fitting today, and she's chowing down. Which is fine, because she's the size around of a pencil.
Me, on the other hand, am realizing I have some deep seated psychological addiction issues when it comes to food. I want bread. I want hot rolls with honey butter. And I can smell it, but I can't eat it. It's like someone drinking a 12 pack in front of an alcoholic in recovery. Its kind of sick.
I ate my steak salad and green beans and ham like a good girl. And one chocolate covered strawberry, which according to my research is 7 grams of carbs. Hope I'm right about that.
So I'll drink my diet Pepsi and watch sissy eat rolls smothered in honey butter and curse myself for the hundred pounds I need to lose.
Hey, M,
ReplyDeleteGood job! I'm pulling for you, here.
Love,
H