Are you like me?
Could you eat pizza for EVERY single meal?
Today we went to lunch at Pearl Street Pizzeria downtown Indy to discuss our upcoming events for Meggie’s Woman of the Year campaign. You should support her and donate to the LLS after you’re done reading my lunch confession.
EVERYONE at the table ordered a salad, except for me.
I ordered an 8 inch hand tossed pizza – Quattro Forrmaggio style (yeah, good luck saying that one)….
After I ordered the pizza by pointing at the menu and saying, “Let’s be real – I don’t know how to say this pizza….but that’s what I want…” – the server informed me it’s basically a four cheese pizza.
Great, exactly what my lactose sensitive butt needs: four cheeses.
Oh well, the pizza sounded delicious.
NO ONE at the table finished their entire salad, but I managed to throw down my entire pizza + eye the extra salad laying around. I honestly wanted to box up some of the salads for dinner later tonight.
I googled pregnant eating for a good picture (since I inhaled my pizza before I could snap a picture) and the majority of the pictures are adorable woman smiling with a fruit basket or salad in front of them. Most of them are in their undies and have a belly shirt on. UM NO that is NOT what I look like laying around my house….Anyway, I did finally find a picture that would fit my situation:
|This is not me (obviously).
But I’m jealous of her french fries.
Scotty’s waffle fries with ranch dressing sound really good.
And you want to know what article this image links back to on Google: Eating for Two is Too Much.
Noted, Google. Noted…
You know, I would have felt fine using the whole, “I’m pregnant” excuse to explain my unhealthy choices.
But number one- let’s be real, pizza just sounded better.
Number two, there was a 30 week pregnant woman at the table with us who happily ordered a salad, ate half it, and still had some of her breadstick leftover.
And number three, I need to save my “pregnancy excuses” for when I really need them…like when I cry because someone takes the last bagel that I want from Panera…or when I get extremely mad at Justin because he tells me I’m addicted to Gossip Girl and lay around all night.
Until then, bonjour!