FFD

Food failure day.

This morning started off well. The Man made eggs and bacon. Bacon which for some reason my pregnant body thought was poison OH MY GOD POISON because it tasted like absolute death. I have no idea why. I LOVE bacon. And I actually spit it out. I think this is a first.

So I ate a boiled egg. With toast. Not so bad. But nowhere near as good as bacon.

We were in a hurry this morning, so lunch was packed a little absent-mindedly. I got to work and realized that I had no morning snack prepared, so ate the apple at the bottom of my bag. It was kind of old and mushy. It was pretty much the best thing I had all day. This is a bad sign.

At lunch I went to the work fridge to get my carefully stored entree, only to find instead of the macaroni and cheese I had thoughtfully saved from last night I had leftover broccoli. And broccoli only. Cold. Old. Broccoli.

Now I don't normally buy food out, but I went and looked in my lunch bag and thought, well, I'll just augment what's here with what I can find at the nearest cafe. Which then given my gluten- and sugar-free desires was:

Yogurt.

Which didn't even make the sugar free category, but was the only thing available.

Normally this place has cut up veggies with dip and assorted fruit, but I was too late for all that. They did however have pasta salad left.

Yeah.

So then this evening I arrived home full of hope for dinner. We had pho nearby recently and the restaurant said they delivered, so it was on my meal plan for the week to order pho.

I called. They can't deliver tonight.

So then here I am: nothing in the house to eat. No plan. No husband to help my tired and pregnant self take a four year old out to get something (because I was NOT going to take him out on my own, given some behaviour lately and the fact that I could fall asleep standing up today).

My next brilliant idea was to re-heat the saved macaroni and cheese for him. So I did. In the toaster oven, which normally works brilliantly.

But only if you turn BOTH knobs. Which I didn't. (See above: NO SLEEP.)

6pm rolls around, I have:

no food for the child.

no food for me.

Husband who is valiantly doing a much-needed errand and can't get home through presumably paralympic traffic issues.

Awesome.

So pizza is ordered, and husband makes (yet another) stop, this time at Whole Foods, to get something for me.

I cry uncle, week. Work's been hell, the child has been difficult, the Hubs is stressed, and the food has left the building.

Thank God it's Friday.

(And thank God for a pizza place SAYS it will be 45 minutes, and actually takes 25. As I finish this post the child has eaten a small bowl of mac and cheese (which was almost hot, even!) and is devouring a slice of pizza. Lucky kid.)