Work Hard, Be a Slob, Eat Lasagna

Last week was pretty much all about gorging myself with food, not working out, and gorging myself with food. I went to New York last week to attend a series of all-day (and almost all night) workshops which were intended to develop a solution for some work problem thingies. Yes. Thingies. I could say "To obtain sign-off on a solution for ticket management and best available volumes," but that just doesn't sound as interesting.

I was set up in a large meeting room, which twice a day received catered food. I wish I would have taken a picture some of this stuff. Cookie platters sprinkled with rock candy and chocolates. Huge containers of the main course. And enough soda that everybody in the room could drink a 2-liter. Free food in nearly unlimited amounts is never a good thing for someone with a bottomless stomach. When the next bite tastes good I usually take it. I'm pretty sure that my girlfriend's family thinks I double as a some kind of trash receptacle, which actually ends up being mutually beneficial. They don't like to waste, so they pass it over to the human consumption machine for peace of mind.

I've realized that paying for food actually keeps me healthy. If I'm going to buy something, I'll usually make a healthy choice and keep the portions reasonable. But when it's free, it apparently is no holds barred.

On Tuesday the catering organizer came into our meeting room to ask if we had any preferences for the rest of the week. It quickly became one of those weird situations where nobody wants to suggest a food because they don't know if everyone else in the room will like it. So "Mr. I Don't Give a Sh$t" came to the rescue. "Lasagna!!", I impulsively blurted out during the silence. People just started cracking up. Random...I guess. Timely...yes. Because guess what I did. I successfully avoided people being like, "Uhhh, does anybody like sandwiches or pizza or Chinese food or anything like that?" And then people would feel each other out with their suggestions until the group landed on the lowest common denominator...a freakin' veggie platter.

Oh HELL no, it's time for lasagna, bitches!! And guess what, everyone loved it. Who doesn't like lasagna??

Reality check: This weekend it's ass kickin' time. My ass. On the trails. Burning off some 'sagna. Peace out.