One day done

Not pound mind you, day.  One day done.  Well, it is a one day at a time kind of thing.  Technically, I could stay up another hour and eat about a thousand calories worth of food.  Nah.  My husband came home late and asked for a frozen pizza.  I told him sure, I’d cook it for him.  But then I would have to knee him in the groin as soon as I smelled it.  And frozen pizzas don’t even taste that good.  Just sayin’.  I didn’t need that scent sensation to trigger anything.  Because of my gastric bypass I am supposed to eat a minimum of 60 grams of protein a day which I did with no problem today.  My surgeon will be thrilled.  I don’t think I’ve taken that much time to really watch what I’ve put into my mouth since I was pregnant.  And that was a trick.  Being pregnant with no actual stomach still makes you want to eat your arm for breakfast.  Crazy but true.  Just writing about Jim wanting that pizza has my playing pizza commercials in my head.  Well, I take that back.  I tend to that in a small corner of my brain I reserve for carb-related video.  Oh, yeah, there ya go.  Got a warm piece of buttery bread playing there now.  Boom chicka wah wah.

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