I wish I could say I had a great day [food-wise] yesterday. I wish I could say it showed up on the scale this morning. But I keep falling for the poppy seed bread on the cabinet. Even though I gave away five freshly glazed loaves yesterday, for some reason I saved one and then thought I’d better taste it to make sure the ones I delivered were good. [Understandable, since last year I accidently doubled the salt in the recipe, and they were awful!]
Oh my heck. I’m such a liar. I can’t believe I tell my self this garbage.
I ate so carefully all day Sunday, trying to make up for the pizza and cheese sticks the night before. I had cooked smothered chicken, corn, stuffing, potatoes and gravy for the family and was able to resist all that. I had instead, two pears and some of my favorite yogurt and frozen mangoes with walnuts.
I felt strong and healthy about food all day and was wisely eating smarter Sunday than I did Saturday. I know the rule: Don’t have two bad eating days in a row. Then after all the company was gone and the bread deliveries were made I cut into the one remaining loaf.
And boy did I cut! I took a two-inch slice right out of the middle. No heels for me! Then I took another equally large one to top it off. I actually said to myself, “What am I doing? Why am I eating this?” Then right before bed, one more just to make me miserable all night.
Yah. Heartburn all night. I was up from 1:45 to 3:30 this morning reading my sewing machine manual!
Somebody, just hit me over the head with a rubber mallet and put me out of my misery!