Mad...at a pretzel

This morning was a busy one. Tomorrow is my husband's birthday. I conspired with his employees for a surprise birthday party. I ran out early with my little ones to pick up a Subway sandwich tray. I carefully ate breakfast first, whole grain bagel thin and low fat cream cheese. That took care of the hungry thing over the sandwiches. Then it was time for cake. He is on insulin, so we had gotten a sugar free cake from the bakery. It is always so good. I had a couple bites of my little man's cake. Yummy!  We wrapped things up and the kids and I left. 

On my way home I pulled through the drive through at Starbucks for my skinny latte. While I was waiting I found myself pouring over the menu. No, I will not order sweets. Ok.  How about a pretzel. A warmed up, mustard filled pretzel. Yep, low in fat, ok.....wait a minute. I am dieting. I am on weight watchers. It is loaded with white flour. It is huge. I am already spending four points on a latte. Must.  Have. Pretzel.  Damn pretzel. Wait, I did not lose any weight today. No, I will not lose a pound a day always, but still I cannot afford a pretzel. I already have flat iron steak marinating. Ugh. I hate the pretzel. Warm mustardy goodness. Evil pretzel. 

I nearly did not enjoy my latte. I poured over that stupid pretzel, well that and the potato chip on the floor in the back of the car. Gross I know, but the call of salt can be louder than a bullhorn some days. Although now, I have eaten lean leftover pork from last night, lettuce, cucumber and chick peas. I used the strongest balsamic I could find. Now full, I am no longer mad at a pretzel. One battle won today. 

I wonder what tomorrow will bring....