Yes, it’s that early. Yes, I’m writing already.
If you and I are alike in our sporadic, largely unsuccessful efforts to “lose those last ten pounds” (in truth, it’s closer to fifteen) you’ll be familiar with the sort of “breaking training” at the dinner table that’s justified by such emissions as “It’s a special day,” “It's too small to save but too big to throw away,” and “But it would spoil otherwise.” The first of those struck yesterday evening.
The menu was marinated filet mignon, half a baked potato with butter, and a large portion of five-day spinach (the CSO’s variation), with Warwick Valley Harvest Moon white table wine and chocolate-dipped biscotti for dessert.
To make the story shorter (and to spare you the less appetizing details) I’ll cut to the chase: The consequences got me out of bed at 11:45 PM and have had me reeling ever since.
The moral should be clear. But...what’s this? The CSO’s ex’s birthday is today! Looks like we’ll be digging in to the leftovers tonight.
1 comment:
I can sympathize with you.
That hardy seems to be a meal that would cause distress, but as a person with GERD and other issues leading to gastric surgery, I have had similar issues after a simple bowl of Mini-wheat cereal. _Usually_ not a problem, but I have given up trying to determine why or when they will occur.
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