Let's not call it failure. Let's call it:
A maximally-processed Polish dog
Cake (two kinds)
Potatoes with butter
and. . . . . . .
It's been three days of much "bad" and much pretty good, given the (visiting in-laws, travelling by Amtrak) circumstances.
I'm tired and I feel fat but I've enjoyed all the yummy stuff and I'm happy about my three-week mark cheat days.
I'm happy to get back on my plan with renewed enthusiasm and I remember now why regementing food like a person who lacks hobbies makes me crazy.
Arrrrriba! (The margarita was tonight),