Okay, apparently on Thursday night I gained 2 lbs. while I was sleeping! What is that about? I'd lost 2 lbs. throughout week, which is good, but when I stepped onto the scale Friday morning there it was again, despite all efforts to stick with the plan. The good news? It's gone again. Lost and found ... and lost again. All is well.
Mike is doing great, btw, and lost almost 3 lbs. last week. (Lest you think this blog is all about me. No, no.) He's sticking with his salads, avoiding the ever-present donuts at work, and eating his Japanese Natto, a sticky, gooey fermented soybean concoction he seems to enjoy, oddly enough. But we'll feature Natto in another blog entry. Now, back to me.
So on Friday I was put to the restaurant test. I went out to lunch with friends Barb & Debbie to celebrate Debbie's birthday at Sandra Bullock's wonderful little place called Bess Bistro. This is where I fought my first battle with the menu. I went in armed with the idea that I would order a salad, which is quite unlike me. Salad is a nice side dish but does not qualify as an entree, in my opinion. A hamburger is an entree. Hey, I'm just sayin' ....
So I study the various salads on the left hand side of the menu and I think the Chopped Cobb Salad seems acceptable. Bacon, avocado, bleu cheese ... not too diet-y. But my eye wanders to the right hand side of the menu where the real entrees reside. Just looking, just looking. "Hmm," I say nonchalantly, "an interesting selection." Crepes, a panini, and oh dear ... a Bess Burger. But no, the salad it is and I close the menu.
We chat and wait for the waiter but soon I find that my menu is open again. And there are those crepes again, a fancy chicken pot pie, and oh my .. even a gourmet grilled cheese. But no, the salad. That's what I'll have and the menu closes and I slide it away. Moments later, again with the menu! The girls are talking and I'm nodding and responding but what I'm really thinking is ... holy crap, this menu is sparring with me!
And as a little side note here, it may have been at this point when, much to my surprise, I burp right in the middle of a sentence, as if it were a syllable in a word. It just escapes without warning, like ... "I should have a salad but the hambur-BURP-ger sounds heavenly." I think I finish the sentence hoping the ladies don't notice, but no. We have a good giggle over it.
Finally the waiter appears and I still don't have any idea what's going to come out of my mouth when it's my turn to order.
"And for you, ma'am?"
"I'll have the Cobb Salad," I blurt.
This is a tiny victory.
Over the years I've lost control and have fed my lumberjack appetite and teenager cravings. Dining out always means I "treat" myself to tacos, burgers, big juicy steaks and loaded baked potatoes. Especially since we moved out to the country 4 years ago, miles away from restaurants, going into town to eat is like a big deal. (Wooo-hooo, Paw ... hitch up the team, we're a-goin' ta town fer fancy vittles!) But this first week of the butter plan, and particularly my first dining out experience has shown me that the hamburper doesn't have to call the shots. I can do that. Yep, it's just a tiny victory but I felt oddly empowered with those few words, so foreign to my tongue: "I'll have the salad." Now that I have this win under my belt, maybe next time I'll be able to skip the menu battle altogether.
I may have lost power and control over the years, but I think I might, just might be on the brink of (burp)... finding it again.
