Don't eat pink meat, no matter how much you like the colour

I had a fabulously relaxing weekend up in Chemainus (there's really not much to do there other than relax so...) with my mom. The Sunshine Boys was very enjoyable, the B&B was (as last time) wonderful (with the best breakfasts ever!). I returned to Victoria all ready and raring to go on my "big week" as this is my first week back at the Y and it will be my first week at Weight Watchers. I have plans, baby, and I'm making them happen!

For lunch, I decided to get a meal which I won't be able to have for a while (I could work it into my points, but it's easier just to say 'no' until I'm more into the swing of things) and headed back to my desk. About halfway through, I bit into one of the pieces of chicken and it looked a little pink--not a lot, just a little--and I stared at it for a bit. Dare I? I mean, it wasn't really pink and all the other pieces were fine. I knew better, I really did, but I ate it anyway. The real kickers is that I'm fairly friendly with the guys who work at this joint and I could have just wandered back, shown them the pink piece and been all like "dudes, seriously?" And they would have been like "totally our bad" and then probably given me a $5 coupon or something. They're good guys like that. Their restaurant's clean, I've eaten there quite often and have never had a problem, so I know it's one of those one-time things were they probably would have been happy to know they needed to cook the chicken a little longer. But no... I pulled a Ralph Wiggum and ated it (tastes like burning!). I hope someone else was smarter than me and alerted them to the chicken.

I arrived home, postponed my run, and headed to bed in a hopes that I could quell the Eyjafjoell rumblings in my tummy with a bit of rest, denial and wishful thinking. No such luck, but on the upside, getting sick like this is a fabulous abs workout! I'm already feeling better, although noticeably weaker than normal, so I'm optimistic that it really was just some mild food poisoning and I'm on my way back to 100%. Knowing three people who've been laid out with stomach bugs in the last two weeks, I've been repeating the mantra of "it's only food poisoning, it's only food poisoning" as I slowly rock back and forth. Eventually, in an effort to make myself laugh, this became "Just a food poisoning." "What are you going to do? Vomit on me?" (For those who are lacking in random humour in their lives, I was referencing this scene.) The message in all this is that even on my death bed, I will find myself hilarious.

One more joke, dear? Well, if you insist.

(Image credit)

The end result is that tonight's run was cancelled and it's looking pretty much like a 'no' for my planned early morning gym visit tomorrow, but I'm optimistic that tomorrow night's yoga will be do-able and I'll be back to my gym plan on Wednesday. In the meantime, I'll rest up, avoid pink chicken, and throw in a few of my Monty Python DVDs. From now on, I want you all to call me Loretta! Wha?!? (This is actually my all-time favourite MP scene/skit.)