I slipped last night after some cocktailing, and am thoroughly annoyed with myself, in part because the evening (and the food) wasn’t even worth it. In the scheme of things it wasn’t awful – 2 pieces of pizza and some frozen yogurt with some toppings I scarfed from the bar, ugh. (I know. Frozen yogurt. WTF? And the day before I had just walked by a new artisanal ice cream place that opened by me and thought: Totally not tempted. I never crave frozen yogurt. It clearly was just defiance.)
It was Day 27. But if you’re going to drive from New York to California and you get car trouble in Michigan, you don’t drive back to New York and start over, right? You fix the problem and keep going. So that is what I’m doing.
I knew it was going to happen. I could feel it. My phone was dying and I was hungry (I felt like I’d been hungry for a couple of days) and tired and watching someone eat a fig and manchego flatbread and I just wanted it all. And I was bored. Sigh.