Yup. Last week. The night before, the BF told me that he'd gotten us a hotel room in town for a night of luxury because my favorite thing to do is bitch about the poor quality of our mattress while refusing to do anything sensible about it, like, oh, purchase a new one. Because then what would I blame my intrinsic lethargy on, myself? No. Anyway, hotel room, yay! (Forgetting to make arrangements for dog, not so yay. So, Zeb came with us.) I was happy to fall asleep old and wake up older without back pain and with free breakfast! Woot!
I spent the rest of the day lazing about at home as I took the day off from work (we're not really allowed time in August since it's the start of the semester, so I played the birthday card) and went to dinner with the fam at Cheesecake Factory, a totally out of character choice for myself, but I dunno, it's what I wanted.
Which leads me to this terrible revelation. I have eaten out for eight (8) consecutive meals. At restaurants. Like full blown meals. There are several reasons for this, last four day work week Wednesday lunch celebration, pre-birthday dinner, all day birthday gluttony, and then the unexpected day trip (not good reasons, more on this later) which resulted in another all day eating binge. All of this leads me to this. I need these.