My dinner tonight is two beers and a bag of chips. Three beers if I get all crazy, and I can face the hangover tomorrow. On a workday. Possibly I should stick with two. The problem is that beer interferes with your judgment. By the end of two beers it might seem perfectly reasonable to have three beers. And so on.
In theory this is in honor of being part Irish but really I just like beer. Especially this beer. Also, my mom likes it so you know it's good. Is there anything better than a mom endorsement?
The chips are the result of poor judgment and beer. I should have had vegetables and lean protein. But I'm a rebel. I crave fried potato products, dammit. And fried other things. Cabbage. Sweet potatoes. Snickers. Hot dogs. Mac and cheese (if you are at a Renaissance Festival.) (Actually I don't like mac and cheese that much, but they do fry it.) Also tempura fried veggies.
Ah, that was a nice trip down gustatory lane. I'm not having any of those other things, but I enjoyed thinking about them.
I'm not having them because I'm on a diet. I didn't think I was actually losing weight, but actually it was just happening so slowly that I didn't notice. Turns out I'm losing about half a pound a week. I suppose that's good and healthy-like. It is frustratingly slow, though. I like to exercise and I have a very hard time losing weight while doing so. The other option is minimal exercise and quick weight loss. That would quickly result in a skinny but insane me.
Pluto's progress has slowed way down. He still has a lump. It's less than golf ball sized, but larger than grape. And I can't get in touch with the vet to ask about his bloodwork. I am frustrated on the veterinary front.
But soon I will be in the woods where I hope to evade my frustrations. Yay for weekends and backpacking!
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