I'm one of those people who rewards herself with food. For instance, today, I had to take a three-hour torture test to determine whether I have gestational diabetes. A requirement of the test was that I had to "fast" for eight hours before the test. (Side note: I hear the word "fast" and picture Jesus wandering in the desert. Eight hours has nothing on 40 days, but I was still hungry.)
When I left the hospital, I drove directly to Chick-Fil-A to reward Silas and myself for enduring the torture. I ordered with complete disregard for my new resolution to eat healthier. Waffle fries? Yes. Coke? Yes. Brownie for dessert? Yes. As I sit here at my desk (avoiding doing any actual work), I find that I am both full and happy. (Additional side note: I think Chick-Fil-A is where Jesus would have gone after his fast if He had had the option of fast food. I mean, they're closed on Sundays and everything.)
Chick-Fil-A has that effect on me. Sometimes when I'm having a crappy day, I'll drive out of my way to indulge in a delightful Chick-Fil-A chicken sandwich. Always perks me right up. I will never be uber-thin living like this, and I've heard that "nothing tastes as good as thin feels." However, I must wholeheartedly disagree because being thin (and therefore irresistable) just got me knocked up, and now I'm hungrier than ever.
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