My kryptonite.

Well people.

I have to tell you about my Wednesday.

There’s no pride in it, but it happened. And honesty is respected around this corner of the internet, so I want to maintain that.

I woke up later than usual yesterday and was doing a little work, all PJed out, from the warmth of my bed when I received a text message from a friend inviting me to breakfast, casual style, at our normal Saturday brunch spot.

“Exciting,” I thought, and without even really thinking about it, I put on my Saturday morning uniform- pilates pants and a UGA hoodie.

Do you see these two really obvious mistakes? I made two Saturday choices on a Wednesday.

Well, we sit down to eat and my brain, unbeknownst to me, is totally in Saturday mode. And as I peruse the menu, my eyes are drawn to the pancakes. “Sure,” I think, “it is different than my usual Fiber One bar or cereal. Sounds fun.”

The fun was quite short-lived.

But I’ll tell ya what, I enjoyed those pancakes. I enjoyed them until they disappeared.

What happened next is hazy. It was about 10am, I know I drove home to get to writing, but I felt like a tranquilized narwhal. I mean, I had just slept for 6+ hours, worked for about an hour, and gotten dressed to eat breakfast and now I felt like I needed a nap something fierce. My body wasn’t responding to the normal internal peer pressure comments of, “Hey, just because you work from home doesn’t mean you get to lay around all the live-long day, Downs.”

I tried to work, I really did. It’s just that my fingers wouldn’t type. They would barely scroll across the mouse. I couldn’t keep my eyes open and I barely had the energy to hold my laptop on my legs as I was flat on the couch.

If you told me that tiny sprinkling of powdered sugar on my pancakes was laced with some sort of drug, I would absolutely believe you.

It took me until about 11:30am to get up and move around. Even then, I was scared to eat the rest of the lunch hour because I was like, “Dear body, are we in a fight? I mean I know we always have disliked carbs, but that was serious this morning and I’m worried the next one will take me out for a full day.”

I eventually ate some chicken and the ol’ bod was way happier with that.

But I continued to wear my Saturday outfit because, well, it was totes comfy.

So what did I learn yesterday?

My kryptonite is consuming pancakes on a weekday.

Don’t tell my enemies.

. . . . .

What’s your kryptonite food?

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