I so partied like a typical American this weekend. High fructose corn syrup is coursing through my veins.
Not only have I fallen off the wagon, I'm so far down I'm eating dirt. I'm so down I can see the underbelly of this wagon, and it's a scary, swollen, hot and bothered belly (possibly lactose intolerant. Thank you homemade ice cream!)
Saturday morning I felt strong and in control after my workout despite the intense heat. Then, at a rooftop party on Saturday night, I was like, KFB what? Sure, I stuck with the veggie dishes first. Then, I didn't.
There were some snickers from friends (so how's that diet going?) as I consumed the following: brownies, cookies, chocolate cake, ice cream, and let's not forget the sangria. There might have been more. Sunday, I woke up feeling like a sugar truck had just run me over and stolen my brain. I was so foggy, so thirsty. So what did I do at a friend's BBQ that afternoon? That's right, round 2! Corona (Cerveza Mas Fina, indeed), ice cream, the works.
More regret this morning, and sluggishness from the heat. I'm sucking on an ice cube, trying to stay positive about how I can learn from these unhealthy few days.
Truthfully, I'm plain ashamed and depressed. And wondering why I can't get a handle on temptations this time around...