I’m finding myself a bit ironic lately when it comes to food and nutrition. For instance, I purchased the Green Smoothie Girl’s recipe bunch when I was way into my green smoothie mode (it’s hard now that it’s chilly- not so much into drinking cold drinks, and the thought of a warm smoothie grosses me out), and Green Smoothie Girl promotes having a 60% raw diet and eating little to no meat or dairy products. I’m quite interested in signing up for organic produce delivery for us and Charis, and I am doing my best to limit her sugar intake and prefer organic stuff for her. My coworkers know I’m a flax seed nut, and I made super yummy raw granola tonight and I’m so excited to eat it tomorrow morning for breakfast.

On the other side, wanna know what I made for dinner tonight? A meal in a box. Betty Crocker’s taco something or other in a box. See, we’re still getting used to this “my salary is cut in half” lifestyle and our food budget has been suffering a bit given other bills that were paying, so I’m spending as little as possible in the grocery stores. That, my friend, is how I ended up with my lovely dinner in a box. I do my best to cook from scratch and avoid overly processed food, but sometimes it happens and it drives me crazy. I couldn’t read the ingredients on the label and the “special topping” that I mixed with 1/4 cup of milk and poured over the top of my rice concoction kinda grossed me out. But I ate it, and so did Eric. We ate pracitically the entire thing (the meal was 5 servings) and it was yumm-o.

So you see? I’m cracking myself up. I’ve been drinking soda on a daily basis now simply because it’s in our fridge from our work holiday party last weekend. I’m a funny monkey. And Carebear? My silly monkey.

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