The problem with getting out of the gym at 8 p.m. is working out whether you want to eat or not.
Because tonight, I was hungry. But not that hungry. And yes, I was tired. But not that tired.
And I drove around Richmond, talking to Jonella on the phone, pondering my alleged dinner. Jonella's used to me asking for meal suggestions.She can't understand why I'm not more decisive. I've been asking her what I'm having for lunch for years.
So I drove around the suburb.
McDonalds. Nope.
KFC. Double nope.
Burger King. Yeah...nah.
Vietnamese: Don't feel like waiting and there's no parking.
Schnitz: Too heavy.
The Noodle place on Bridge Road. No, don't feel like spice.
Pop in at the supermarket: I could spend half an hour looking for something, only to come out with junk.
Besides, there's plenty of food in the fridge, I tell myself.
On getting home, I'm still not convinced on the need to eat. There's food in the fridge - still, I'm not feeling it. I don't want to have a sandwich. Too heavy. There are boiled eggs, but I want them for lunch tomorrow. Stuff in the freezer. Not now. Salad? I had that for lunch.
I settled on some rice cakes, smeared with cream cheese with a bit of sweet chilli sauce. Snacky, easy, something with a bit of crunch.
It's just interesting to watch my appetited. See what it's doing - and not giving in to habit and getting take away. I'm a bit proud about that.
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