The Ferry Building in San Francisco (thank you, Hec, my favorite foodie) has an amazing gelato place. I had Jack Daniels gelato, IIRC.
So yum.
Speaking of which, my lunchtime sandwich was so good it might've cracked my Top 20!
All dark meat turkey sandwich from a Hofbrau. Carcass was almost bare but she stripped that bird down through all it's nooks and joints with the kind of expertise you can only get from standing over a turkey every working day of your life.
Soft roll, mayo, mustard, lettuce, tomato and onion and all that gloriously rich and lustrous dark meat. Mmmmm.
On this diet thingie, I am forced to eat an obscene (for me, Carb Girl, anyway) amount of fruits, veggies and dairy every day. You know, healthy food.
Because of this I have Lactaid fat free milk blended with ice and chocolate syrup every day as an afternoon snack. Not ice cream, alas, but it IS delicious.
Speaking of the diet thingie, 11 lbs down and fitting into the jeans from last year. 15 lbs to go.
I want a scoop of cherry sorbet in a glass of prosecco. Which is why I'm going to the store on the way home. In the alternative, I may be testing out the vodka that I've been infusing with ginger for several weeks. Perhaps a gimlet. So I should get some limes too.
::packs bag and heads to Vortex' condo::
cat~ma askye!
woo hoo! drinks!
Go you Scrappy with the weight loss!
OK, weird. Woman we were waiting on came back to do stuff, and i thought we had plenty of time. ...because my computer clock was over an hour off. WTF???
not sure when that happened. I think my comptuer is possessed. I thought that anyway, adn then when it was just openeing and closing tabs on its own!
You're still stuck at work, meara? Ah well, I guess I'll see you next time.
Yay, Scrappy!
I've at least managed to figure out why my weight loss efforts haven't been working. I keep sabotaging myself by my 3:00 p.m. salty snack craving. I'll bring in food from home to keep me from buying chips or whatever, and I'll have something like fruit or yogurt for my p.m. snack. Only once it's midafternoon, I think, "Yuck, that's too sweet"...and go buy potato chips. My other downfall is the days DH cooks, because he gets home later than I do and usually isn't in the mood to cook right away. That means dinner isn't till 7:30 or 8:00, by which time I've already had some ginormous snack because I couldn't wait.
I figure those are fixable issues with more planning--I just need something salty/savory but less fattening than potato chips to take in, and enough small, self-contained snacks around the house to keep me from binging if dinner is after 7:00. Which sounds easy, but I find it surprisingly hard to break out of eating ruts.
Susan, the 100 calorie packs aren't bad, and they come in chips and cheese crackers. The cheese nips are only 3 grams of fat per serving.
Grrr. Co-worker came back from her lunchtime workout a little while ago and reported that she ended up at an elliptic machine right next to our administrative Big Giant Head, who first said, "Hi! Don't talk to me, I'm here to work out!" and then added, "So, how are things working out with Jacqueline? I heard from someone she wasn't coming in on time."
Co-worker: "Huh. Well, she is. Who told you that?"
BGH: "Just... people. Are you sure?"
Co-worker: "Her desk is right next to mine, so, yes, I am sure."
BGH: "..."
Co-worker: "..."
BGH: "Well, have a great workout!"
WTF? I come in between 8 and 8:10 every day, at which point I spend the next 45-90 minutes twiddling my thumbs and surfing the net since everyone I work for comes in after 9, and then I work my ass off and accomplish more in the remaining hours than my predecessor did in three months (including staying late if needed to deal with the frantic patients who call in with emergencies they've just discovered at 4:55 on a Friday). All of which BGH already well knows, because all three of my bosses have written and called her with rave reviews of my work.
Co-worker does report, though, that random people with whom I have no regular contact have been dropping in "just to check" at 7:55 on some mornings. Thanks, BGH. Way to flood me with paranoia and convince me that the quality of my work is markedly less important than whether my carcass is occupying your office meatspace at 8:09 AM instead of 8:11.
