Pizza will be the Death of Me

I’ve been craving pizza for a couple weeks now.  Actually, I’m not sure I ever don’t want pizza.  It’s pretty much a staple in my diet.  Pizza, Ice Cream, Sushi, and English Peas are all items I seriously doubt I’ll ever go more than three weeks without eating.  If I could have them everyday without the side effects of gaining weight and being generally unhealthy- I would.

Anyway I decided I would finally order a freaking pizza yesterday.  I was in a really weird mood and wanted to be alone so the plan was to wait until fifteen minutes before my Little was due to leave for babysitting and order the pizza online (secretly in my room, of course) so as to actually get the pizza after she had gone.  I just wanted to eat pizza, jam out to obnoxiously loud music, and clean the condo.  Is that so wrong?

The pizza arrived, along with my Mountain Dew, and my taste-buds almost had a heart attack just waiting for the delivery guy to stop talking to me and leave.  Side Note: as he was leaving he said, “Y’all have fun tonight”, which made me wonder if he really thought there were other people there or if he knew the truth- that I was alone and, like a fatty, had ordered a large pizza and 2 liter for myself.

Finally he left.  I didn’t even make it three feet from the door before I sat down to eat.  This sounds worse than it was.  The couch is right beside the door so I wasn’t eating on the floor so stop judging, Bro.

Some people might argue that the deliciousness of pizza is lessened when you take meat out of the equation, but I say as long as you have cheese and bread that pizza is going to be kick-ass no matter what.  And my pineapple, black olive, tomato pizza was top-notch, sir.

I take pride in my diet.  I feel like I do an above average job at putting decent food in my body and limiting the junk food I consume.  This was exactly why I needed to be alone for this pizza…  All of my standards were about to go out the window and I was looking forward to it.

I ate three pieces in one sitting and came back for two more before the night was over.  SHAMEFUL!  I wrapped what was left of my pizza pie in foil and stashed it in the back of the refrigerator so my Little wouldn’t find it and know what I had done.  I wedged the rest of the coke in the door in an area I know she doesn’t look at frequently and then hid the box in my closet so I could inconspicuously throw it out later.

After all of that I still probably could have eaten more pizza, it was just so DELICIOUS, but I felt so bloated and ashamed there was no chance I was putting anymore of that enticing food into my body.  I even thought for a second, not seriously, to make myself puke but no- I did this and I have to live with the consequences.

Today, I ‘m still feeling that pizza.  I’m sure I gained like 5 pounds (yes, one pound per slice) and I’m wearing a huge t-shirt to hide both my stomach as well as my guilt.  But you know what, I have three pieces at home and I absolutely cannot wait to eat those bad boys.  Lesson not Learned!



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