All I can think about is dry roasted cashews. I’m almost irreparably addicted. It’s my comfort food, my stress food, my happy food, my pre-workout booster, my post-workout reward, the essence of my physical and mental well-being. Once I pop, I can’t stop. 1 necessary handful in my salad becomes 2 for dessert and 1 more just because. Banana and cashews. Salad and cashews. Eggs and cashews. Avocado and cashews. Chicken and cashews. Veggies and cashews. Cashew aperitif. Cashew digestif.
That’s how my week is going, other than being insanely busy at work and not having a lot of time for much else.
I don’t think I’m losing weight. If anything, my tummy feels bigger. I kinda can’t wait until this phase is done. I just need to be a normal person again. Besides the cashews, I’ve eaten good meals, and I’ve been incorporating veggies. I can’t wait for next week, though. First, I’m going to make a palm oil stew, which is technically not off plan, but the white rice I eat it with will be. I have sooo missed this. I envision it and I salivate. If I feel like going overboard, I’ll fry my plantains in palm oil too. Goodness! Deliciousness in my brain. Dear diet police, I feel deprived; leave me be. The weight isn’t coming off anyway, and I’m going nuts. Am I gaining weight? Am I losing weight? What can I do? What should I do? My nails are growing. My face is glowing. What does that mean? Where’s my tape measure? Are all these cashews really making me fat??!