Well... I'm being accountable. And it's not my best work. I had a great day yesterday liquids on day 1 of the pouch test. I had a great day today (day 2 of liquids) until I left for work... no that's not true. it was until I left the marriage counselor. I went by myself as Brad was unavailable and it was good and all - but... you know... I was a little raw afterwards (can someone please tell me what's wrong with the spelling of afterwards?? Is it not a word? Is it two words?? This is what I say yet when I spell it - I'm told I'm a moron - please help) - okay, maybe a lot raw.
The place is quite near my sister's house and I sat at a light and debated - do I go to her house, or do I go home. I had a plan for dinner at home, but I definitely needed some down time - some processing time before I went home to my husband and kids. At my sisters are my freaking adorable nieces, not to mention my sister who I like very much - but she will try to feed me and she and her husband both are very, very good cooks.
But, in the end it was traffic that made my choice. I got out of the appointment right at rush hour and the main road to my house was MOBBED!!! So I decided to stay down where I was and go visit the sister. Do you know what that little bitch was doing when I got there??? I bet you can't guess. She was just pulling out of the oil, home made thick french fries. She told me she'd been working to perfect them. Bitch. I said no. I'm not going to have any. Then we got to talking about the appointment and some other stuff and.. I had a fry. They were indeed perfect. I had even told her, I don't want any cuz then I'll want a lot. Well, I was right. I wanted a lot. Luckily I wasn't able to consume very many - I seem to have found the one thing that effects my band - stress. Then my B-I-L came home and Jesus God he whipped up these hot pork loin and cheese sandwiches in the time it took me to blink twice. I had totally hit my limit - my.. "if I have one more morsel of anyfuckingthing I will puke" limit and then S (BIL) says, no Read, you've got to try this - it's to die for. No, S. I'm good, it looks wonderful, but no thanks.
What does the little bastard do? He completely ignores me. He cuts one of the sandwiches in half and puts it on a plate and pushes it to me. Come on, it's soooo good, you've got to give it a try. Here, he pours ketchup (of all things) on the plate. It's even better with ketchup. Knowing S as I do I was confident this would continue until I had at least one bite - so... I dutifully dipped a corner in the ketchup and took perhaps the smallest bite in the history of the world while I prayed I wouldn't accidentally swallow any of it. I chewed and chewed and chewed and waited an appropriate amount of time before I excused myself, all the while keeping the liquefied very, very yummy sandwich bite in my mouth and headed for the bathroom to spit it out. Have you guys ever done that??? I decided it was a new threshold for me - one I'm not sure I'm proud of or horrified by - LOL.
Anyway - it wasn't enough and I puked a bit anyway - oops. Oh well.. But really the bigger problem was - the damn had been breached. I was now in the - I want to shove some food at my rawness place. So when I got home - what did I have?? But the crack my husband bought last night. I have not once bought those horrific little crack light potato flakes since I talked about it a while ago - and last night out of the blue Brad brings home an industrial sized box. I was like... are you fucking kidding me - that's crack to me. He immediately hid the box from me, which was good - but when I asked for it tonight he said - do you really want it? um, yes. yes I do. I said. And well... now I feel sick. But wait - I'm going downstairs and dumping the rest of that god damn shit in the trash can so I can't be tempted again because clearly I'm weak..... Okay - done - they're gone now.