Today. I lost Silas' fund-raiser stuff. It's due tomorrow. Annoying. And very stressful. I've looked and looked for it and even came home for 30 minutes during my work day to see if I could find it. Alas, no such luck. My TENDENCY, when I do something like this (or other things that stress me out), is to eat. Weird stuff or not weird stuff. And not really taste it.
I ran five miles this morning (thank goodness)
Drank two cups of coffee and ate GoLean Crunch. (not too bad)
Forgot to eat my 10am boiled egg. Got too hungry. Went home during a planning session to try to find fund-raiser stuff again. Pfft. Slivered off chocolate mousse cake (nearly without comprehension or conciousness) until I needed to leave to go to school. Sans fund-raiser stuff.
Repressed urge to get a gyro on the way back to school from the little Greek stand down the road. Small victory.
Ate half of a Payday that my teacher gave to me and half of a piece of banana bread (also that she gave to me) 30 minutes before lunch.
Was not hungry (anymore) but still ate my lunch of chicken and rice with raw spinach (good lunch, but I wasn't hungry). I ate with Silas (and his class) and endured questions about "Super Food" the entire time. Sidenote: Last Tuesday, when I ate with Silas, I discussed "Super Foods" with the children. I love to eat them and encourage others to eat them as well. We go through a big thing of raw spinach a week. Well, the children like to ask questions like, "Is this a super food?" or "Is that a super food?" I thought that we had exhausted all possibilities for super food discussion last week. I was wrong.
Came back to room and ate a handful of Peanut M&M's. Hello, I love Peanut M&M's, but 1/4 a cup is a serving and it is 220 calories. Good grief. Peanut M&M's are not a Super Food, by the way.
Drank two big glasses of water to try to disable my guilt. Not working.
Came home from work, with my piano student, and listened to all the children scream (I think they called it "playing") while I munched (still not hungry) popcorn and slivered more cake. Still, the gnawing guilt of unknown hiding place of fund-raiser stuff frustrates me. I half-heartedly looked again in my house, knowing it's not there, and stuffed my mouth full of cake. Pooh. Did piano lesson with my the little boy. He left. I fixed dinner (well-chicken nuggets and fries from the freezer) and the boys sit down to do their homework.
In leui of dinner (I very righteously decide to pass on dinner), I nibble on the boys' leftovers and then (oh, the shame) ate the rest of the fries on the cookie sheet alternating each fry with (ahem) either a spoonfool of mint-chocolate chip icecream (with the fry stuffed in the ice cream), a spoonful of homemade whipped cream (supposed to go with the chocolate mousse cake), or drizzled with chocolate syrup. Yes. I realize this sounds repulsive. I don't really remember what it tasted like.
I decide to go look in the car (again) for the fund-raiser stuff. And found it almost immediately. (I had put it under the passenger seat so I wouldn't FORGET TO BRING IT TO WORK). Sigh.
I think I'll go drink a big glass of water.
And do some situps.