Dinner was good last night despite agreeing with the diet. I added sun dried tomatoes, walnuts, and chopped red onions to arugula. The microwaved salmon, the size of a standard bar of soap, melted in my mouth.
Once I finished stuffing myself with arugula, which I devoured before and after salmon, I realized that this low-carb feast would be incomplete without a desert. My options were sugar free Cool Whip, sugar free Jell-O, or sugar free Cool Whip on top of sugar free Jell-O.
So, I reached for a cold 16-ounce can of sugar free Rockstar. After all, it tastes like candy and gives you energy--something I lack from the late afternoon slump to bedtime. My husband raised his eyebrows.
Sipping the cold drink slowly through a straw, I felt the life force coming back to me with every bubbly swallow. I cleared the dinner table, talked to the twins, and, at 8 pm, settled for my only week night of mindless television.
I stopped drinking Rockstar at about 9:30 pm, right as the Bachelorette was going through another trauma with one of the young men. "No problem!" I told myself. I've been able to nap after a cup of coffee--there's no reason why I shouldn't sleep well tonight.
As for the Bachelorette, this one seems to cry a lot--every time she learns the true nature of one of her beaus. Why doesn't anyone tell her to be happy about dogging another bullet? The preview of next week's show makes it look like she's sending all the young men home.
Whether it was carb deprivation or the Rockstar boost, I truly felt sad for the Bachelorette. As I was falling asleep, I prayed for her to find a love connection wherever it may be.
I finally drifted off to what felt like restful sleep. I woke up only two hours later. I looked at the clock and commanded myself to return to slumber. Two hours later, I woke up again. Unfortunately, that became the night's pattern. I was in bed for eight hours--which means I woke up four times throughout the night. No more evenings with Rockstars for me!
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