The post holiday rut. It’s bad this year, friends. I’ve found myself saying the words “I’ll go to the gym today” or “How about a nice salad for lunch?” but knowing with certainty that instead I will be watching reruns of Gilmore Girls while plowing through what’s left of the tin of Danish butter cookies (you know the ones). Yesterday though, I heard the little voice. It was crying out from under pounds of holiday/comfort/stress eating weight. And it was pissed. I tried my best to ignore it and continued to eat slices of baguette dipped in olive oil. But it persisted. I knew what it wanted, and eventually I caved. Quinoa salad for dinner.
Also there was chicken and green beans, because we’re not savages. And a cat (for cuteness and companionship, not for eating).
