Or the "Trainwreck" Week. Yes, it was worse than the week before. Much, much worse. I spiraled out of control, people! This week felt like a long day. No beginning, no end in sight and a lot of crap eating in between. I present to you the longest day or the shortest week, pick your favorite. Don't expect exact time, or day, or anything. Just don't expect anything.
Everything started with a sandwich. A sandwich and a pepper.
This here is a whatever quesadilla. Whatever I found here and there I put inside and covered in cheese. Eat with salad.
Then I ate some cereals because the craving and it didn't stop until I put my face into the damn milk and sugar concoction of doom.
And then I wake up and it's Pancake Day! Well, what's a girl to do?
A mountain of pancakes. To cover in cream and maple syrup and pears in rum. Share with boyfriend. Pancake days are the best days.
Yo, you need some veggies up in this biatch!
Then I had soup and a sandwich filled with leftover veggies and an egg from earlier.
Overnight oats with banana and almonds and raisins and stuff. Uh, pears on top!
Lalalalalalaaaaa, cabbage power! With sausage and polenta.
Aaaand theeeen we went into the city to see Deadpool and eat donuts at McDonald's. Hey, it rhymes! The donuts were not from McDonald's. I bought them across the street, from the tiny box-shaped shop outside of the casino. They have the best donuts!
I ate 3! 3 donuts in one sitting?! Oh, Lord, I've lost the ability to give fucks!
Oh, and McDonald's. Something with bacon on top and guilt. Oh, the smell of giving up on yourself!
Once upon a time there was this house I cleaned once in a while. Inside this house lived two lovely people and a dog. The dog's name is Bounty. Because he is white and flaky. Very coconut looking. After looking at him for almost 2 hours I had to do this. The craving was real.
Carrot and ginger soup with toast and basil&garlic butter.
Tuna spaghetti with ricotta on top.
Pasta- the more you eat, the more you want.
Bread. Ricotta. Prosciuto. Spinach.
Eggs on wilted spinach, toast with prosciuto, gruyere and a bit of pepper.
Sandwiches happened. I ain't gonna lie. No point.
Since I worked and I had 2 cakes to bake and I was tired as fuck, I went for frozen pizza. No work involved, no dishes to wash. Just fast and easy. And wrong. I know! You don't have to shout it at me!
Le "Omg, this egg white omelet really shrunk!". Let us compensate with guacamole and tomato salad, mortadela and cheese. Grapefruit and mango on the horizon.
Ricotta on toast with sour cherry preserve. Homemade. Heaven. Sugar. Death. Lost. Forever.
Stuffed chicken (spinach&mozarella) wrapped in pancetta. Ate with roasted veggies (from a bag, cause I got frosting to make!).
Later that day, bread with aubergine salad. Oh, the love!
What followed was a crazy feast of cakes and tortillas and frozen pizzas. Pour rom&coke and Hungarian palinca all over that and you got a wonderful disaster. Party like you're 20, even though you're definitely not 20 anymore. I am in need of some serious counselling.
Woke up to cake. No picture available. But it happened. Oh, it happened.
Then we went and ate mexican food from a truck! Best thing ever! Huevos rancheros and burrito!
Don't forget the movie hotdog! It was all sorts of bad. Congratulations! You magically transformed into a pig!
We ended it all with soup and aubergine salad on toast.
Whoa, what a day/week. I'm miles away from getting my shit together. Balance, where the fuck are you? I'm alone in the dark, you bitch! Looking for you!!!! Stop hiding! Show yourself, you cunt!