America's Drive-in, America's Laziest Wife?

I was going to blog this morning about last night's meal but of course, while I can read and comment on our blog at work, I can't log in to post, and out of the THREE phone apps I downloaded (and paid for!) exactly ZERO are working, so.

Not sure if I mentioned, but yesterday I had THREE (this is apparently a magic number) cavities filled, all in a row. I felt like a failure. I felt dirty. I felt ashamed. I did not feel like cooking.

After two painful and (painfully) boring hours in the dentist chair, I came home and I was so hungry but I couldn't really open my mouth. I wanted to eat, but didn't know what I wanted. I didn't want to go through too much trouble, but I wanted it to be relatively bad for me.

I settled on my potato salad, but guess what? No red potatoes. That's all I could think about then was potato salad so I eventually flopped on the couch with a big frown.

Will saw that and said "What can you eat at Sonic? How many points you have left?"

I had enough points for a corn dog smothered in mustard and a regular sized tater tot and a diet cherry limeade. I'm not sure how Will knew where to take me, but I'm glad he's not as stupid as I sometimes believe he is. I looked ridiculous trying to open my mouth around the thing and it hurt like shit, but tasted so, so good. I ended up...I don't know, can you side-saddle a corn dog?

(manna from heaven)

Tonight was pretty much a bust. As you know, it's fish on Friday if we plan to eat at home (we usually go out but I didn't even feel like that), and I still don't feel like being real adventurous (damn time change) even though I have a bag of shrimp and some tilapia fillets waiting on me, and a bunch of salmon saved up for salmon patties (I can smell disaster on that one).

Anyway, guess what I found buried deep in my pantry Sunday afternoon as I planned this week's meals?

Do you see the broccoli on the box? I did, too. It's not actually part of the recipe. If you squint real hard, you can see tiny green specks that look like they came between my three rotted, mutinied teeth but essentially we just ate some questionable canned fish with some half-assed noodles and butter. That is what I served my devoted, kind-hearted husband for supper. Even sadder, that's what I served myself for supper.

So now, my house smells like a warm mid-Atlantic tuna boat, rocking gently in the frothy waves (oh shit, I'm going to vomit), and I'm anticipating a 9 PM bowl of cereal for both of us, tucked into while we watch the Soup.

Tomorrow: cravings. (wait, you crave particular foods and not just all of them in general?) Side note: I ALSO LOVE HUMMUS. With Triscuits.

(also: tagging this as box betterfication...I didn't make it better, but it involves a box?)