Panic

I went out to lunch with a friend yesterday.

This was an event, because I decided to dress up, and while the same clothes still fit, they evidently fit better. Jeans that took an hour or so to become comfy are now comfy right out of the gate- that kind of thing. So I threw on some eyeliner and big sunglasses, and headed out the door.

While I haven't made a huge effort to eat healthier, my diet has never been that bad- except when I was on progesterone, which made me want to hijack a Girl Scout and steal her wagon full of Thin Mints. I eat whole grains, full-fat dairy (because of the whole fertility thing, and in moderation) and lots of lean protein, fruits and veggies. The occasional Drumstick doesn't throw to big of a wrench into the machinery.

I pulled up to the place we were meeting up at, and some college guys in a car totally checked me out and whistled and yowled at me. I glared at them as I fought with my keys and wrangled my purse.

I was kind of amused, but more thrown off than anything. That hasn't happened for awhile, and I have never done too well with male attention. So, it's solid proof that I either look different physically, or project more confidence, or both. (Or, they were making fun of me, which is always my gut reaction- but they kept watching me as they drove off, instead of snickering and high-fiving each other, so...)

I walked into the place, and the first thing my friend says is, "You look great!"

I haven't seen her in two weeks, and she said there was a big difference.

"I know you're watching it," she added. "But I am going to have a cheeseburger."

The thing you need to know about this place is that they have the best onion rings ever. EV-er. And they also have a BBQ pulled pork sandwich that I love love love, but have to order, but it is called The Pig Sandwich. So if you are say, a police officer, or, as in my case, a fat chick, ordering this gives you a qualm or two.

But it is amazing, so I order it anyway. I am not on a diet! I can eat what I want! And I have copious amounts of onion rings. And realize that I am doing this a. to prove to my friend that I haven't become a "salad and an iced tea girl", b. because I am freaking out about the college guys in the parking lot, and I am prone to comfort eating, and c. because mmmmmm, Pig Sandwich. And onion rings. Thin slice of heaven, right there.

And then afterwards, we go to the yarn store, and there's a fantastic little bakery next door, and I think, well, I have already blown it. And they have the cutest little mini-desserts, but of course, I have already "screwed up" today, I decided against the baby eclair, and I have the Big Momma eclair.

And OH it was sooooooo good.

So yeah, worth it. Until this morning when I woke up and smelled the self-sabotage.
I am not going to say that I can't have onion rings. Or a pulled pork sandwich on garlic bread. Or an eclair as big as my head. But all three in quick succession on the same day is a little much. So I am chalking it up to not eating for the rest of the day yesterday (I had the second half of the Pig Sandwich for dinner) and leave it at that.