OK, I know it was unreasonable to expect that every day from now until my birthday would be easy-breezy simple and on program, but I really, really wanted it. (Imagine me whining at this point.) After I managed to get through lunch out unscathed, I eventually got home to take Al the Pug out to do his bathroom business before feeding him and then taking him for a walk shortly afterwards. That was the plan anyway. What actually happened was this...
I walked through the door from the garage and could immediately smell that something bad had happened in Al's dog crate. He was howling instead of his usual bark and that was a very bad sign, too. Turns out he'd had terrible accidents in there, making a terrible mess. I nearly cried as I got him out of there, leashed him up, and took him out to do his business legitimately. Once we were back in the house, I had to clean out the crate (while screaming with the disgusting of it all) before I could put him back in to feed him. It was approximately 5 minutes after wolfing down his dinner - while I was preparing my OWN dinner - that I heard him throw up in his crate. I grabbed him up, snatched my keys and phone from the counter, and ran over to the vet's in the car just before it closed.
Forty-five minutes later we were back on our way home and I just knew that I couldn't eat the wretched veggie stew with beef entree I'd been preparing when I left. Couldn't. Had to go out and get something fresh and yummy and not on program. I mean, I deserved it, right? Look what I'd put up with. Look how strong I'd been. All by myself and everything. But I ate it anyway. I spent most of the rest of the night looking for something else to eat...something that would satisfy my intense need to binge. I very nearly ate uncooked grains (we have lots of quinoa and brown rice in our pantry for some reason) I was so desperate to binge. I nearly did, but I didn't. I still want to and I still might, but I didn't last night.
When does this get easier???