And so it goes that if good impulses begat good impulses, I must inform everyone that bad ones are a slippery slope. Not that you didn’t know that. If you’re reading this it’s probably happened to you too. This weekend my fiancé and I decided to make a conscious choice to indulge. That’s the lingo, you see, we made a choice. We didn’t cheat, we made a choice. This is so that I take responsibility for my actions. So this weekend we had a little get together. We were good all week and this actually was a pretty strategic decision. I was pretty happy with myself. We made guacamole, which is pretty healthy and good for you. We had pizza but not too much, but Brad and I made brownies. I ate a lot of brownies over the course of a weekend. Then for dinner we had Chinese food and I made a sensible choice of shrimp with vegetables. I woke up the next day bloated and feeling guilty on the brownie issue, but really not that bad.

However, the bloat and the fact that I didn’t sleep very well made me particularly grouchy. Then I get to work and immediately someone says something snarky to me. I am not one to hold my tone so I snarked right back and that is how my day began.

I was good with my preplanned lunch and my snacks. I don’t think I packed quite enough because I was ravenous when I finally got off work. I had a head ache and I had that tension in your forehead that even when you try to release your wrinkles and deep breathe it doesn’t go away. I plopped into the car when Brad came to pick me up and exhaled into his loving warm arms. And do you think that was enough? No, because eventually he had to drive and let go of me, but mostly because I didn’t feel like waiting for Brad to prep the grill for the healthy pork shops that we had planned. So Brad offered to take me to my favorite fast food in Boise.

Bad Boys. The name is so perfect. I love their French fries. Their wonderful large, hand cut, fresh, hot almost every time, perfectly salty- French fries with fry sauce. Ah, the fry sauce is like the perfect compliment too, it has not too much mayo or too much ketchup. An order from Bad Boys is a little piece of heavenly grease in a paper bag and they live about four blocks from my house. So as you may have guessed by now, we stopped by on the way home. Just the thought of these fries brings me joy. Writing this right now makes me want them so bad; I can literally imagine the taste of these fries. I was already disappointed with myself, but the idea also brought me glee. Like when you have sex with a man who you know is a player, but is really good in bed. You do it anyway cause its fun, but the whole time you know there is going to be repercussions. As we sat in line at the drive thru, I was being cuddled by my honey and he was making jokes, and between that and the promise of fries I was starting to feel a little better. So on the way home we joked together a little and I told him about all the evil hedonistic people I had encountered that day and he listened.

When we finally got home, I gathered all of my trappings from the day: my purse, my backpack, my lunch pale, my spill proof cup that I drink healthy water in, and my portion of dinner a cheeseburger and the exalted fries. I trudged inside feeling the weight of all this and another wave of tiredness hit me, but at the same time a slight oh I am finally home feeling that brought on a large sigh. I headed inside and put my burger and fries on the table and my lunch pale and my purse and finally took off my backpack and as I did, the backpack pulled down the lunch pale that brought with it the bag of magic fries.

Fries spray across the dining room floor. Without thought, I immediately sunk down to my knees in a puddle of sadness. I cried out worse and far more intense than William Shatner’s, KHAN.  My Ohhhhh knowwww had not only that kind of anger, in it was a sadness that included the whole entire day. It was whiney, long and sad and in the end -tears began to fall. I am so lucky my fiancé doesn’t carry a camera phone.

He graciously offered to sweep up the fries off the dining room floor, but I just walked deflated into my room to put on my pajamas and cried in the fetal position on the bed. It took 30 minutes for me to come out and finally eat my contraband.

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