Tuesday, November 15, 2005

Give me a Break

Actually, I need to give myself a break. I ate like a little pig at lunch today. Who could blame me really? They had my favorite, ham and beans with cornbread. Wonderful! Yeah! Awesome.

I take a small bowl of ham and beans. Then a small piece of corn bread. I turn the corner looking for butter, and BAM! I am staring eye to eye with the most delicious, yummy gooey sickening sweet, diet blowing sticky bun. A glorious cinnamon roll covered, drenched, dripping, drowning in melted brown sugar and butter and pecans. YUM!

Damned if that sticky bun didn’t just jump up off the table and land on my tray. What was I to do? I had to eat it, it was calling my name.

Since I already had the ham and beans, with the side of cornbread, I had to eat them too. The ham and beans weren’t worth the Styrofoam bowl they were in, and the corn bread was bland and dry. Total waste of money. Maybe my taste buds were just completely uninterested in the good for you stuff, because there was that wonderful dreadful, fattening, hip spreading, belly roll creating sticky bun waiting. Pretty sure the taste buds were kind of jaded.

So I ate it. Not all of it. I forced myself to eat most of the ham, forget the beans, got the cornbread down with half gallon of water, and on to Heaven. Let me tell you, I ate until I was sick, then ate two more bites just to be sure. That sticky bun was pure heaven. But half way through my stomach and my blood sugar level both screamed ENOUGH! I could feel the sugar and the butter solidifying and making themselves comfortable on my hips and thighs. I could feel the bun expanding in my belly and what started out as a welcome ‘full’ feeling was quickly turning into a sickly bloated feeling. A few minutes ago that sticky bun looked like heaven, making my mouth water. Now the thought of eating another bite was sounding and feeling like pure torture and my stomach was starting to revolt.

Guess I know what’s on the agenda tonight, no dinner (who has room?) lots of water, maybe 50 sit-ups, and squats, whatever it takes for me to feel as if I’ve worked some of the damage off. Damn sticky bun.

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