Disaster struck in the sink, where dishes and cups that hid out in their cupboards leapt into my sink as if they had always been there. According to Joe, it is not his doing. Since I know it is not my doing, it must be the fault of our cutlery and dishware. I keep imagining my stemware dancing around like Mrs. Potts and Chip the cup from Beauty and the Beast, and while it puts a much needed smile on my face, I have to admit that something's rotten on Regency Square. And its the insane amount of dishes we continue to pile up despite our efforts to "clean as we go".
Disaster then struck my best laid food plans, too, on the very first day of Weight Watchers. I weighed in (1.5 pounds down from the last time I weighed in there) and left feeling renewed and ready to begin my new and healthy life. Then something unbelievable happened. We went to Brio for mom's birthday, where I was forcefed artichoke spinach dip on crusty flatbread and fried tomatoes nestled under buttery mouthfuls of salmon against my will. Against my will, I tell you!
When I say "against my will" I mean it. Joe asked me what I was going to get, and when I told him, he said, "Yeah, that sounds really good." Utterly diabolical. It's like he knew. Anyway, since I screwed dinner up so badly, I barely had any fight in me left by the time dessert came. Molten chocolate cake with vanilla bean gelato. Seriously, are the stars just totally aligned against me?!
I ate it. Every juicy, delicious, rich, buttery, creamy delightful bite. God help me.