So yesterday evening I visited with my friend Nikki and accidentally had chicken wings and potato wedges from Double Double. Okay fine. I can't really say accidentally since we called it "Wingsâ€™nâ€™Wedges" night and had been trying to plan it for months. Whatever.
1) I'm eating everything awful this week to get cravings out of my PMSing system before I have to record a week of eats honestly for celeb-trainer Harley Pasternak's discerning perusal. Or judgement. Judgement because I have his books 5-Factor Fitness and 5-Factor Diet, both of which include a range of super-easy healthy recipes I'm totally ignoring. Judgment because when he was in town months back, he told me I'd done well since I'd last seen him, but I had to step up my game -- and I've beyond stepped it down.
God, I hope I do better next week. (Must drink green tea, not coffee; eat foods rich in vitamin A and omegas 3 and 6; get lots of sleep; and maybe get in a brisk walk or nine -- or stress-hormone cortisol is going to do my comfort eating for me and THAT. IS. BAD.)
2) Aside from the fat quotient (shut up), wingsâ€™nâ€™wedges mean tons of salt, especially on crispy, so-yum chunky potato wedges.
3) I had a dream last night. One of my favourite kinds and the best part of my PMSing: a hormonally charged dream. Got to make out with a dream hottie dude. Only when he's sexily drawing me close for the kissing part, I'm dream-thinking in a panic, uh oh -- those wings'n'wedges have given me such dry mouth, maybe I shouldn't kiss him -- damn.
But wait! Apparently dream hottie dude doesn't care. *swoon* Now that's a dream guy.
Don't judge me.
Image courtesy of Dreamstime/Danielle Phaneuf.