So we had YET ANOTHER potluck today. Because it's been like a whole two weeks since the last one, right? Feeders! Food-pushers! I'm surrounded :(
It was a Taco Bar potluck. Lots of bullshit I would love to dive into face-first...but...le sigh...shouldn't. And didn't! If deprivation were an Olympic sport, then today, I would have taken gold. It's always REALLY surprising to me when I can just steer clear. It's a very new feeling not to succumb to, at the very LEAST, a 3:00 cookie or seven.
I know, I know, it's all about moderation, not deprivation, but well...I'm not there yet. I dunno if I'll ever be there, but one thing I do know is that I'm not there yet. One cookie opens up the entire night to the "fuck it" attitude, and then I'm laying in bed hours later wallowing in Snickers wrappers and regret.
But today...I had a plan, see?
I can have a taco. I just can't have THOSE tacos. Greasy fatty spicy (oh so delicious) ground beef that's been sitting in a crock pot in it's own fat becoming more and more awesome as hours go by, hey, I don't need that shit...I got......oh, chicken.
So I made my own damn taco. I even stole their lettuce and tomato and the teeniest tiniest bit of shredded cheese...
Then I ate one of these...
Me and cookies have an Ike and Tina type relationship. Today I'm giving it the ol' one-finger salute and telling it to 'get the fuck out muh face.' But tomorrow, I could be back! Begging Ida Mae for forgiveness and saying that I only hurt it because I love it! Hopefully not though. This is one toxic relationship I could live without...if only it wasn't the obvious talent in this relationship.
Be strong, Tina. What's love got to do with it, remember??
The answer is nothing, by the way. In case you were still wondering...