Today is a travel day, where I had to stop at the leviathan known as the Atlanta airport to change planes.
I didn’t have a ton of time between planes, so I had to eat something fast. If you’ve ever been to ATL, you know that there is no shortage of restaurants which makes decision-making a bit overwhelming.
If you’ve spent more than five minutes around me, you know that I eat Paleo like 95% of the time. It’s not just for my health, but because grains don’t agree with me and I have a bunch of random food sensitivities.
I can go on endlessly about the virtues of clean eating. I eschew grains and sugar as if they were laced with arsenic, which might actually be a thing.
However, travel does something to my Paleo brain. Like I totally forget how miserable I feel or how many pounds i put on when I eat off my diet. Apparently, I’ve fooled myself into thinking that eating something outside of the greater Austin area doesn’t count.
As I walked around the food court, the smell of fresh bread and melted cheese lured me to the pizza place. This is quite possibly the worst choice ever. Still, my lack of self-control coupled with travel fatigue forced me to get two slices. I mean, who eats just one slice of pizza? Yoga instructors? I’m no friggin’ yoga instructor!
In my defense, there were some vegetables on it. Also tomato sauce is made from tomatoes which are actually a fruit, but at least they’re produce, which is totally Paleo.
I needed to make some smart choices on the sides here because pizza was such an indulgence. I passed on the garlic bread and softdrink–yay me–and opted for a garden salad instead. Surely the bowl of green things would negate the empty carbfest I was about to shove down my throat.
By the way, I paid $14.55 for this feast.
Once I sat down and started eating, I noticed that some of the lettuce was brown. Gross. Plus, it was iceberg lettuce which literally has no redeeming qualities. The one pathetic slice of tomato was colorless and bland. I obviously needed to put a ton of salad dressing on it. Okay, so now add 248 calories to my indulgence because there are two servings in those dressing packets and only that aforementioned yoga instructor uses just one serving. If you’ve never read the nutritional value of those dressing packets, I’m sorry for ruining your life. Also, we need to have a talk about Santa Claus.
I play with my salad for a while, pushing the limp lettuce around with my fork, only to find it too hideous to finish. The pizza was barely edible and after one slice I was full, but I had to eat the second slice because there are kids starving in Africa and also on behalf of the yoga instructor.
Now I find myself with an empty wallet and a belly full of cheese, gluten and regret.
Self loathing in 3-2-1.
- Posted by webdetta
- On May 29, 2016
- 0 Comments