Last night The Boy, one of his work colleagues, and I went out for dinner to my favourite place nearby. It’s a little Italian spot that is delicious in every sense of the word (including the fact that it’s called Delicious!) and I love it to death.
I had a gorgeous pasta and lamb dish followed by half of a chocolate panacotta, accompanied by a perfect glass of wine. I was stuffed but happy.
Well, my brain was. My stomach, not so much on the happy side and more on the stuffed and I hate you side. Nothing wrong with the food, but something didn’t sit right and I was bloated and gassy and I-think-I’m-going-to-be-sick all last night. I never was actually sick, but I was curled up in a ball moaning and groaning all night. And all into the morning – I did not sleep well. My body was not happy with me at all.
Which is really disappointing because my brain was still savouring the favours of every bite. I loved the meal. My stomach did not.
I woke up very groggy and annoyed and slightly scared of eating. I had two small slices of toast for brekkie and resolved not to snack all day today. Today is going to be 3 square meals and that’s it. Tons of water. Tons of green tea. No snacking.
And of course, the minute I said no snacking? I want a snack. Typical. Stupid brain-body disconnect!