rio

There is a reason I didn't write this morning. Maybe some of you expect a new post from me each day upon waking! In that case, maybe you expect way too much out of this li'l gal. I can only do so much. I can only go so many nights with five hours of sleep before I turn into a pile of beans and rice and guacamole. Which reminds me, I just got a huge ass burrito from Cafe Rio (thanks, mom!) and I am going to eat it now so that my brain will work. Be back in a sec. (I'll save some guac for you. JK, I won't because I love it too much to be generous.)

Holy crap. Uh... Crap might not be the greatest word for me to use... So I wrote the above paragraph about six hours ago. I went to have a few bites of the huge ass burrito and then planned on returning to my quiet herbal tea and introspective fog and pearls. INSTEAD I devoured that burrito. I effing destroyed it, man. And it was no small feat. Oh no no no. The salmon burrito was approximately the size of a small country and this is in no way an exaggeration. It was a rather sensual experience, to be honest. Just messy and drippy and pleasing to many of my senses. Food! Whoa. Who knew that food doesn't have to just be fuel? Food can also be violently pleasurable. Give me a burrito and I will cuddle with it in a highly sexual way. Kidding, mom! (*Not kidding.)

And then I had a brief moment after demolishing that burrito when I had to choose between freaking out from "eating too much" (according to ED) or to just let it slide. Let it slide and be grateful and happy and relieved and maybe even go smoke a cig. No, no smoking cigs. Don't want to kill any of those taste buds, you know? Anyway, I chose the latter. I chose it. It is a choice, this whole listening-to-ED thing. I'm just now realizing this. It's the best realization I'v'e had in a long time.

But knowing old Meggie, some of ED's whispers are still there. Oh, and they are shouts, not whispers. I don't think he's ever whispered once in his life. He just nags in an extremely loud and incredibly close way. He yelled for me to go to the gym and so, being the still-somewhat-obedient servant that I am, did as I was told. Here's where the word "crap" comes in! Uh oh!

Okay, I didn't crap my North Face running shorts. Thank Buddha. But I did have to stop running more than once in order to, well, use the ladies' room. It was very unpleasant. It also became kinda funny after I remembered that episode of The Office when Michael Scott eats a tin of fettuccine alfredo before running a 5K and then proceeds to projectile vomit said fettuccine alfredo after the race. So essentially I was Michael Scott this afternoon. Word to the wise: It's best not to eat a country-size burrito half an hour before you run 12 miles. Just don't attempt it. Eat the burrito and then relax. You can always run another time, and you should always put the burrito first.

I feel much better now, thank you. I just really really really want to be hungry again. I have a sinking feeling that this burrito did me in for the rest of the day/night. I still might try to sneak in some gelato in there (my stomach), though. Gelato plus Better Call Saul sounds like a match made in heaven. Oh, throw in a warm blanket and my cat sweatshirt and I've just created my personal heaven.

I love you, guys and gals. Guys and dolls. Dolls and dreamboats. You really are a big support to me whether you realize it or not. Let's all be more than kind to ourselves. Let's be our own damn best friend, okay? Okay.