It was inevitable. Last night, after a blissful mid-afternoon nap, (in place of my work-out), I called my husband and informed him that I was simply not cooking tonight. What did I want instead? Chinese food. Of course, we order way too much, (as is our plight in life), and we have copious amounts of left overs, sitting in the fridge, brewing in their juices, soaking in that good cold air, that makes it IMPOSSIBLE for me to NOT eat the left-overs for breakfast.
Why is that, anyway? Why does Chinese food–specifically, pineapple and shrimp fried rice–taste so darn good the next day? I wish I could call in my order the day before, and get a delivery of cold, day-old, fried rice and pork in capital sauce.
Of course, now I’ve just ruined my day with the bad eating, and I’m sure I will be craving salty carbs for the rest of Friday into the wee hours of Saturday. Oh joy, it’s not even nine-thirty and I will be bartending until at least two AM. That’s a lot of carbs people.
Damn that nap!
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La Dolce Vita 