Today was a rough day, and that means a fight to keep from inhaling all the greasy goodness within reach. Imo's. I thought about Imo's all meat pizza all the way home and even tried to convince the wife that it would make life better. She wasn't buying and now that I've had my supper, I am glad for it. Although I'm still thinking about Imo's or I wouldn't have blogged about it.
I'm the cook, but because I was struggling so much tonight, the wife tied on her feminist apron and cooked Mediterranean tilapia with a vegetable-potato blend. It was great, really great and I'm feeling good for not eating Imo's. Although I do have to admit that if the pizza were in the house I would tear into it like a down-low Baptist minister on a cracked-out gay hooker.
Instead of eating 1,500 worth of calories in one meal, I had something like 300. I'm sure the fat doctor would be pleased. The day was still hard but I plan to treat it with an hour long spell of good, old fashioned television watching – Heroes. After that I may go straight to bed.
The truth is, I should be strong enough to resist that food myself and make healthy choices on my own. That is often the case, but there some days that I cannot do it. I do not expect my wife to police my food. That would place the responsibility with someone else when it should be mind. However, it's good to have someone around to help from time to time.
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