Last night I dreamed of cinnamon buns and toast. Strawberries and blueberries over granola and yogurt. Mmmm...breakfast without eggs. I had just made the connection last year that I'm an adult, therefore I don't have to eat eggs if I don't want to. Why do I keep making them if I hate them? It was a revelation. Now if I take away eggs from breakfast, thanks to stupid South Beach, I will be left with V8 juice and turkey bacon. Something's not right there. I want my bread!!
We're holding on strong though, and I have not cheated once. I can't say the same for Dave, but I do believe him as he actually admitted to stealing a leftover Hershey bar from Christmas. He snuck it out of the kitchen, then he came back in and said, "OK, you have to hide these right now." It was still unopened.
I went to the gym today (dingy Simpson College gym...boy I wish I could afford the Y), and my tunes were keeping me motivated. However, as I'm completely out of the loop with pop culture, my songs of choice were "Tub Thumping" (uh, what year was that popular?), "I will survive" (ok, I wasn't even alive when that first came out), and a few others I won't bother to mention. I think Ace of Base made it to the workout playlist on my MP3 player...can you say junior high dances, anyone? How about some suggestions for some upbeat, non-rap, non-swearing, but non-prissy music...anyone?? La Scala just doesn't work for the treadmill. OK, the five oboists reading this will get that joke.
On an unrelated note, after several days of cleaning, the 2.5 weeks of accumulated cat hair is finally gone from our house. I guess most house-sitters don't believe in tidying up. I guess we should be grateful the cats were still alive. Sorry, that's the hunger speaking. Have you ever filled up on salad and still been hungry afterwards? It's that I'm-full-but-I-still-have-room-for, I don't know, bread-feeling.