Mr. P: Endorphins?
Me: Yeah. You are crabby, so I think you need some too.
Mr. P: Endorphins.
Me: Yeah. Endorphins.
Mr. P: And those come from dolphins?
Yeah, I must retract all my healthy postulating from last week. I was healthy, healthy, healthy girl yesterday, and still managed to lose my shit at dinner over MEAT.
I had texted Mr. P that I wanted salad and a slice for dinner after the gym, and he heartily agreed. So after the gym, we at the pizza place and are discussing what we are going to get and he says that he is going to get a large garden salad with buffalo grilled chicken and a slice of sausage and pepperoni pizza. Now, I, am getting a large garden salad with a slice of cheese. The whole time he is talking about the meat, I feel like I am going to cry because...why, oh why, must he torment me by eating so much meat? So I say, "I am going to make you do Weight Watchers too, so that way you can't have ALL THAT MEAT."
uhh. What?!? Thing is, I don't even like meat all that much. I go days without eating meat, and I never, EVER, eat meat on pizza, and only in a salad if it is my "main course". Now, Mr. P LOVES meat. He likes meat on everything, he gets especially giddy if there is a way to have meat on meat, like a bacon cheeseburger, etc. But for some reason, last night, I felt like he was taunting me with italian pizza meat.
Now that I keep typing meat, I keep thinking of "meat" and the post has lost all integrity. nevermind. stupid meat.