Carrots....

I hate carrots. Really despise them. They make me want to scrub my tongue with a washcloth after I eat them.

Why am I telling you this? Frankly, I'm out of good ideas for blogs this week. I've spent the entire week glued to my computer, working, and not that many funny stories arise out of that. Aside from the fact that I've had to blockade my desk with empty boxes and trash cans to keep Big Smelly Dog from wiping his wet beard on my back, there hasn't been a lot of breaking news in here.

I haven't even been to the gym this week because of, in this order, a stomach bug, a fax toner cartridge emergency (it's a long story) and the sheer exhaustion that results from adjusting to a lower-calorie diet. (I'm barely keeping my eyes open while I type this. If I doze off, don't take it personally.)

Which brings us back to the carrots. I really like the food I'm eating right now - it's tasty and the portions aren't even too controlled. I filled a whole plate with lunch today. And last night I got a chocolate square. (I really know how to live it up!) However, the chefs who create these meals LOVE carrots. I've had to eat the orange horsemen of the apocalypse in every non-breakfast meal I've had so far. Raw, cooked, cooked and cold, in slaw, baby ones for crunch, you name it. And I've hated every weirdly bittersweet bite. I don't like the texture, the taste, or even the look of them.

Upon reflection, I think carrots are the only vegetable I really hate. (I'm not a huge artichoke fan, but I'm not even sure that's a serious vegetable.) I eat peas and broccoli and even brussels sprouts. But if I could go the rest of my life without eating carrots, I'd be a happy woman. (And Mom, I know if Tony and I have kids, I'm going to have to eat everything and not complain because I want them to eat everything and not complain. Right now I don't have to be mature about it because I'm the only person who cares what I eat.)

However, if I'm going to keep eating my delivery food, I need to just suck it up and learn to deal with the disgusting little things. No matter how they make the inside of my mouth feel. (Like I've been eating shampoo-flavored sandpaper.) It will all be worth it when I'm as thin as (and, because of the carrots, the same color as) Victoria Beckham.