Nacho Nightmare

Have you ever eaten that slice of pizza really late at night, and immediately regretted it? Like, I-know-I'm-gonna-have-a-pizza-nightmare-now regretted it?



That was me last night, except replace 'pizza' with 'Doritos'.

They didn't even taste good. I didn't even enjoy them. Maybe it's because I was quasi force-feeding them to myself, so I could finally be rid of them. Or maybe I've just reached that point where eating like a total crap bag is so totally, utterly unfulfilling.

My nacho nightmare jolted me awake in a cold sweat around 3 a.m. Maybe it was the dream itself, or maybe it was the powdered cheese slowly escaping from my body that awoke me from a restless slumber that involved me trying to evade (note: trying) slow-moving lizard creatures meandering around my room. Give me a break on that one, I had just finished watching Land of the Lost.

Anyhow, this is officially day one of attempting not to be a lazy, disgusting sloth. I've got my smaller-portioned lunch, my banana breakfast, and my first workout booked for 3 p.m. I also plan on doing some *ANOTHER NERD ALERT* Wii Fit this evening. As a former (see: current) video game nerd, I've decided to embrace it.

Wish me luck.