When Good Habits Come Home To Roost

Or, when your virtuous ways come back to bite you in the ass.

I have the WORST sugar hangover today.  It was so awful that when I got home from a party yesterday afternoon, I gulped two glasses of water, flopped on the couch, and fell asleep at 8:30 pm.  With the curtains open for freaky neighbors to see me splatted on the couch if they so wished.  And with no AC in 85F heat.  And the Mets game on, and loud, on the TV–hello, the maligned Mets were on and I didn’t even care to kick up a fuss?  You know that’s nearly a sign of the apocalypse.

I don’t think it was just the sugar.  With two parties in two days, it’s been a social weekend around here, and great fun, and more activity than my old-lady self can handle these days.

The good:

  • Two parties in one weekend (make me feel 22 again)
  • A chance to wear two cool dresses for more than just myself, the husband, and the dog–who am I to object to dressing-up opportunities?
  • As worn at the Valsayn fete in March--wore it same way but forgot to take a picture

Dress by moi, shoes from Trincity Mall

  • Showcasing makeup skills (ok, not really–just showcasing red lipstick one night)
  • Catching up with friends
  • Meeting new people
  • Munchies galore by people who make it their business to do munchies in style, unlike sloppy-hosting-moi
  • Wine, beer, etcetera–cabernet from a bottle or shiraz from a box? Carib or Stag beer?  Ooooh, the choices…

The bad and the ugly:

  • Exhausted from two parties in one weekend=I’m definitely not 22 anymore
  • Dying of heat in two dresses, and now needing to handwash two dresses full of mosquito repellent, beer drips, and pastry crumbs
  • Probably talked way too much to friends because I’ve been cooped up lately–not a pretty sight
  • Definitely forgetting the names of new people
  • Munchie malaise–eating almost enough to make up a meal, but not quite, and at odd times, which makes me feel like I’ve been steamrolled (especially when sugar is involved)
  • Feeling like an alcohol sponge

Who am I and why do I want to keel over after eating pastries and cake all afternoon?  How can two glasses of wine put me right to sleep?  Is this what a [mostly]cake-and-Coke-free existence does to people?

I know, I know.  “Well, Miss Thing,”  I can hear you saying, “it’s not like anyone MADE you eat that piece of cake.”  Yes and no.  At a large gathering, you can turn things down.  At a smaller one, where you’re all sitting in a circle and plates of food are handed to you, it’s not so easy.  Also, there’s a whole cultural imperative at work here in Trinidad when it comes to these things–you just don’t say no.  It’s quite a rude thing to do.  So you enjoy the piece of cake (because come on, it’s a Trinidad-made cake and bound to be delicious beyond your cakiest dreams) and hope not to suffer a slow, sugary death later on.

There is an upside to last night’s and today’s bout of sugar ick.  In my prehistoric times, back when I could eat 33 pieces of sushi in one sitting (yes, true story), I would have eaten that cake and still felt a bit off (way less off than I do now).  But I would have still had four pieces of French toast with syrup this morning.

Instead, I almost yakked at the sight of a mango, couldn’t finish my one-teaspoon-of-sugar coffee, and resorted to a very savory sada roti to sop up the sugar.  I also felt regret (not guilt, mind) at not having been able to run this morning after looking forward to a new playlist all weekend and vowed to make up for it with a killer run tomorrow.

Rather than be annoyed at the way my weekend gluttony paid off, I should be grateful that it happened.  It’s a sign that I’ve got the healthy habits down pat.  It’s slightly reassuring that, even if I wanted to lapse back into three-pieces-of-cake behavior, my body would not be down with that–and would definitely tell me so.

So the lesson here?  You CAN get used to life without copious amounts of cake/wine/late nights.  You might even like it.  And let’s hope you do, because there’s no going back.

Not without a mean sugar hangover, anyway.


I felt green all day, but wore blue instead  (and kept to my resolution of wearing one Laura-made item per day until Q-Day, or quit day, this Friday):

Dress by moi, shoes by Target, rain by early rainy season

And, in the spirit of eating as few ingredients as possible and making those ingredients good and wholesome (and because I can ALWAYS stomach Chinese food), I made a stir-fry of sesame garlic green beans and thin spaghetti for dinner tonight:

A dinner that green makes me feel decidedly less so–funny, isn’t it?  Relieving, at least.

Gotta go–a particularly terrible Law and Order is on and I MUST watch.  It’s part of the sugar-hangover solution, I swear.

One Response

  1. I know what you mean, martini night made me realize I’m not 22 either. lol Your dresses are too cute,

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