Last night we went out to dinner. At a pizza place. With the kids.
Not just your average pizza place. This was a place with “ambience” and a “drink menu.” My kind of place.
We were celebrating the end of school and the kids really wanted to go to Chuck E. Cheese. Now from a diet perspective, that would have been a great choice. The pizza is absolute crap, the salad bar’s a petri dish and the constant clenching of my jaw would have burned off any calories I consumed. But I took the kids out to lunch at McDonalds. Dinner was for me.
The restaurant is not a huge chain and the nutritional information isn’t available online, which sucked. I was doing okay with a thin crust margharita pizza, except the crust was so amazing, I could not stop eating the damn thing. And my husband, unaware of how he was killing me, insisted I take a bite of the 5 meat stuffed pizza he had ordered. Damn. I don’t even like meat on my pizza and that stuff was flat-out amazing. Not to mention the fact that by the end of an extremely long meal where I told my children 27 times to wipe their hands on their napkins, not their shirts, well, I needed a drink. Badly. So our waiter brought me a chocolate-coconut martini that was quite simply, the best thing I have ever had in my mouth. An alcoholic Almond Joy bar. Dear heavens.
So I’m a couple of pounds up today, even though I starved myself during the day before. I know some of it is water retention, due to the heavy salt load last night. And alcohol, especially a sweet mixed drink, is murder on weight loss. So I’m back at it today, eating like a person who wants to make her goals.
But I don’t regret it. Not a single, delicious mouthful.