In the morning, I swigged half a bottle of kiwi-strawberry fizzy water from the nightstand. Also a chocolate truffle from a dish in the kitchen... they were just there.
Foregoing a real breakfast -- perhaps discouraged from eating by the crap habits of the past two days? -- I was next made to feed when Joe and I stopped by the aftermath of J.'s sister's bridal shower. I had a mouthful of warm mimosa that taste and smelled like cooled sweat; a glass of cranberry juice and another of water; a vanilla bridal shower cupcake; an Italian anise cookie; a bite or two of pecan roll; a wheat mini-bagel with cream cheese; some kind of ruggalah-like pastry; and a bite of an intensely pink, crumbly Italian cookie. Realizing that man was not meant to live on cookies alone, I walked next door and bought a slice (well, they come in orders of two slices each) of barbecue-chicken pizza from Sal's, and had a bottle of diet cola with that.
We went to a movie, J. and I, and avoided buying concessions: a small victory. AFTER, though, we stopped at Taco Bell, and I had a "Fresca"-style chicken burrito, and my part of a large diet cola.
Back at the house, we snacked late in the afternoon. I had two slices of reheated pizza, and a sip or two of J.'s chicken-and-stars Soup at Hand product. Also half of a peanut-butter-and-banana sandwich on wheat bread.
At around ten o'clock, a knock on the door was heard knocking on the door -- J's mother wanting to know if we want some of the food they'd brought back from Texas Roadhouse. So, J. and I toddled downstairs, and split a plate of chicken-fried-chicken and mashed potatoes, covered (not heavily) with a white gravy. I had a can of diet Mountain Dew, just like I did earlier in the day with that reheated pizza.
As I'm typing this entry (and as I experience a flush of consternation, at how erratic today's eating was, and how unhealthy), I'm looking forward to a midnight snack of water and vanilla-frosted cookie.
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