So I come home from a long challenging week at work. I put my judgmental brain on auto pilot, change into work out clothes, grab a clean towel, iPhone and headset and am off to the gym. Now realize I am pooped. Going from being as sick as I was back to full throttle when nobody had done nothing on my stuff since I left for vacation is enough to put you on the sick list again. Nevertheless, I sucked it up buttercup (yeah me!) and gave a good solid week of work to both the day job and the dream job. So how I got myself to the gym was by promising I could order pizza post workout. I have a workout full of the usual hi’s (look at me! I am killing this) and lo’s (crap am I going to make it past 15 min?) and then realize upon return that if I want guilty indulgence there is that 6 pack of KD I bought (for the first time since college) and I’m pretty sure if you combine that with the hot dogs in the freezer and a large martini, you will feel sufficiently decadent unto the day.
Thing is, I’d inadvertently bought the whole wheat pasta white cheddar version, to which I had already decided to add the cauliflower left over from the book club veggie tray, because everyone knows the best way to get me to eat vegetables is to add butter or cheese. So off I go wooo- hooo but the time I stir it all together with a clove of organic garlic, 2T of low-fat organic milk, one T of unsalted butter, 1.5 cups cauliflower, 1 cup of baby spinach I’m thinking okay at least the hotdogs are a Friday night indulgence till I catch sight of the packaging waiting for the bin – turkey dogs – nitrate free. WTF?
So I determine to EAT the WHOLE Thing. Which I don't. So what? Now my night of indulgence turns into a healthy portion controlled menu? Hmmmffff.
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