Welp, due to my own suggestion to make lists to boost productivity, I did just that and it backfired in my face today. After going to acupuncture (at the crack of dawn), and filing my renewed notary commission at the county clerk, I decided it would be a brilliant idea to squeeze in breakfast before my dad had a dental appointment.
Needless to say, at 10am, no sensible restaurant in our proximity was open, so I settled on the trendy, much hyped about little restaurant we had just driven past. Against my better judgment, I ordered food, despite reading a tiny notice at the bottom of the menu that basically said “if you can’t eat nuts, don’t eat here.” Well I can’t, and I did, and I kinda regretted it at the time…and have since been regretting it all day.
I’m not sure if it’s the chemical composition of nuts not agree with my stomach, or I actually have an allergy, but nuts just don’t like me. Maybe that’s a little nuts! I joke and digress.
Anywhoo, I tried to order a pressed juice, but couldn’t have grapefruit (thank you acidity and stomach issues)…but the juice was premade. WHO DOES THAT. I get it, efficiency, but my poor stomach did not appreciate the modicum of pineapple juice I begged to counteract it.
Ok, juice downed in a paper straw (le sigh, it melted between my teeth after 20 minutes). Next was my faux ceasar salad. I honestly have no idea how vegans/other foodies who prefer the non-dairy/meat/anything vaguely tasty (or at least I, and all the carnivores would agree with) do it.
Not only was I starving after scarfing down my menial leaves with smushed nuts and some itty bitty pieces of brown avocado, but the waiter never came by to see how it was.
So in a nutshell, (ha, see what I did there?), not only was the meal disappointing in the moments of its consumption, but I’ve been regretting it all today.
I guess today’s nugget or “nut,” if you will, of wisdom, is to never second-guess your intuition. I had warned the waiter of my inability to digest nuts, and figured when he didn’t suggest a more stomach-friendly alternative, I would be ok.
I was not, and neither were the various porcelain thrones I encountered throughout the day.
Le sigh. Writing to you in a moment of digestive relief and slight mental clarity. Had I written this an hour ago, there probably would be expletives and some tear stains on my keyboard. It was that bad. I guess restaurants with faux marble tabletops and food that instagrams beautifully are for the birds-no really, the amount of nuts that encapsulated my small salad legit looked like bird feed.
I’ll stop with the nut jokes, as they’re kinda driving me nuts.
Until soon (and hopefully from a more peaceful and zen place of digestion),