On Sundays, I never want to work out.
And I don’t hafta.
When the weather is crappy, sometimes I don’t want to do anything except read a few novels and order buffalo wings.
And, you know what? I don’t hafta.
And some days, I don’t want a square meal.
And guess what? I don’t always hafta eat one!
Sometimes I also think how ironic it is that square meals are generally considered to be a protein, a starch and a vegetable (at least in my universe). Shouldn’t that be a triangular meal?
Or does the cocktail count as the fourth side? If there’s any good left in the world, it does.
Anyhoo, it’s not very often that I don’t have much of an appetite. Unless I’m sick, of course. But even then, I’m usually looking forward to my next meal.
For some reason, last night I wasn’t in the mood for much. Specifically, I wasn’t in the mood for any kind of starch. Strange, and wildly uncharacteristic of me, but true.
I was dining with my parents last night (which sounds much more civilized than being honest an admitting that I was mooching off them) and suggested that we skip the potato/rice/pasta/french fries/chips for the night.
Surprisingly, they were amenable to the idea.
I roasted up some brussels, butterflied some chicken breasts and sprinkled them with some seasoned salt and my dad threw them on the grill,
and I fulfilled the ONLY craving I had been having all day.
I blame the craving on RhodeyGirl after reading one of her Tweets, by the way.
She had mentioned that she was craving honey mustard and I instantly adopted the same craving. A sympathy craving, if you will.
I find that I like my honey mustard best with a combo of equal parts yellow and Dijon mustard and 2 parts honey.
It tastes well balanced to me. And we’re all about balance, right?
I didn’t even miss the carbs. Maybe it’s because brussels sprouts are pretty starchy. Or because the honey mustard seemed pretty decadent.
But I’m not going to overthink this one.
‘Cause I don’t hafta.