While refilling the Brita pitcher at work today, Leigh and I stared at not one, but 3 (or 4?) pans full of chocolate chip cookies. They were all melted and gooey and warm. Damn you, catered lunches!! We packed them up for another coworker with a daughter and her friends. Thank you, Lori, for knowing lots of kids that need cookies more than I do.
I laugh in the face of temptation!
It's date night, so I suggested a movie. We're kind of boring around my house. And I suggested a specific theater. He checked the movie times, and there's a big enough time gap to stop at Muddy's. So someone suggested that as well. And THEN he had his "Aha!!" moment and figured out I really couldn't care less about seeing Resident Evil.
In my defense, I have 13 points left for the day, and a cupcake is 7. I've had all my GHG's (including my activity). And more importantly, there are people smarter than me that have proved chocolate becomes one of those basic human needs when PMS strikes. And you can't argue with me because it's not safe right now (just ask Mr. D). 'Nuff said.