It happened again.
I was about 30-45 minutes from going to sleep. Well, that was my goal because I was still on my laptop doing computer-ey things.
And then, the snack craving hit. I tried to ignore it really I did. I drank some water, which I keep on my nightstand. I played a game or 2, or 3 of Mahjong. But then Bill got up and went to the bedroom door. And I asked, "Where are you going?" And he answered, "Why? What do you need?" Which on the surface sounds so "aww how sweet of him" but really he means "what do you need so suddenly that you had to wait till I got up to ask?" So I replied, "Nothing." And then he told me he was going downstairs which made me happy because now I had some company to go with me for my late-night snack. So, in all actuality, this is all His fault because if he didn't have to go downstairs I would never have tagged along and eaten that poptart, handful of pretzel combos (because ya know...sweet and salty go hand-in-hand) and washed it all down with some Pepsi.
As I sat there in the kitchen snacking I felt a little guilty because I know the rules about not eating late at night especially since that bit of weight I'm trying to lose ain't leaving any time soon. And, because I know you shouldn't eat salted foods during that time of the month since it adds to water bloat and cramps and blah blah but dammit it all tasted so good and I don't really give in to late night eats very often so I'll just down some more Advil and do extra stomach crunches (don't laugh. I do them, when I remember).
Anyway, I sat there binging and feeling like a meth addict getting high in a dirty bathroom. The only thing missing was the meth. And the drug paraphernalia. And a dirty bathroom. Okay, maybe not the bathroom, but in my defense I was in my clean kitchen and the bathroom is clean enough so I'm not embarrassed but I wouldn't eat off the floor.
The thought also crossed my mind that my plan to go to sleep at a decent hour has been hi-jacked. But maybe once this mini sugar-high wears off, the inevitable crash that follows will be enough to get me right to sleep. Problem solved.
I still blame Bill. Thanks a lot husband dude! I could be sleeping now, but nooooo you had to go downstairs.