James came by after work yesterday to return my bag o’ schtuff which was apparently burning a hole in his car trunk. I in turn threw some China souvenirs in his general direction. He was also craving Mexican food, so I suggested a nearby hole-in-the-wall restaurant called Taco Shack.

Dwaine had introduced me to Taco Shack some years ago and I always remember it, when I step in, as the place where Dwaine and his buddy engaged in a tipping war and the tips got so high that the waitresses developed an instant crush on Dwaine, so he had bragworthy service until he made the mistake of bringing me there one day, incurring the jealousy and wrath of the catty waitresses who from that moment on gave him the cold shoulder.

But they have good authentic food, so off James and I went. On the drive there, I disclosed my nervousness about our late dinner. “Why?” he asked. “Because I really don’t eat Mexican food anymore. It’s so heavy and made with lard.” He offered to eat some other genre of food, but I said we always go where I had cravings so now we’ll go where he has cravings, and I’ll try to be careful about my portions or selections.

I had a true dilemma behind the menu. While listening to the pompous bragging behind me of a guy “complaining” about all the women in his life who initially agree to keep things simple but end up begging him to take their relationship to a higher level as a brainless-sounding girl giggled her gullibility(I also remember Taco Shack as the restaurant where Dwaine once said to me, “Just once I’d like to overhear a conversation that’s half as interesting as ours.”), I felt my head fight my heart. I really wanted, craved for, the chicken mole, but it’s a full dinner that comes with tortillas, rice and beans, which I can do without but which I know I will ingest because I don’t like wasting food. (It was awful in China admitting defeat at each meal, thinking about the cliched starving children in China, paranoid of actually seeing them through the restaurant window.) But my head said to ignore the heart’s desire and go for the healthier choice, small soft tacos a la carte.

James hit on a thread of truth that I will regret the heavier meal as satisfying as it may be at the time I am shoveling it into my mouth. He recommended the soft tacos. I reluctantly consented and ordered 3 soft tacos a la carte, and thereby freed up the caloric guilt to eat the smothered cheese and chips given to us as an appetizer.

The 3 tacos were immensely and surprisingly satisfying. Plus, no guilt! My body must be craving something, however, because this morning I had a dream that I was sitting at a large round table by myself and eating chocolate and almond cookies and cakes and pastries while ignoring the little anorexic voice screaming, “Nooo! You have to stop!! What are you doing to yourself?! You’ll never be able to work this off! Never!!!”

Consistent with yesterday, my gym trainee and I are skipping the gym today as I touched base with her via email earlier and in her own words, “Every part of my body hurt. I left my purse at [a coworker’s] desk because putting it on my shoulder hurt. I couldn’t have done anything last night if the man of my dreams were to offer (who ever that is?). I think we deserve a lite lunch? If I can still walk by lunch time.” The right side of my lower back hurts from when I slept slumped over to the right sideways on my recliner all night. So we’re gonna speed-walk to a restaurant at lunch.