I must get a plan. I can't let the days be so random or I will go off the diet.
I take a cab to Rite-Aid and buy 12 bottles of water and some snacks for H. I get back to the hotel room and peruse the menu. There are only two things I can eat on the entire menu...one for breakfast and one for lunch or dinner (I won't be in the room for all three meals).
Here's the plan:
Breakfast-one egg white omelet cooked in PAM with onions, mushrooms and broccoli. No hash browns, dark rye toast, dry. Glass of water.
Lunch or Dinner--one chicken caesar salad with extra grilled chicken (4-5 oz total); no grated cheese, no Caesar dressing. Olive oil and balsamic vinegar on the side.
H gets whatever. One meal is pancakes, the other is chicken tenders or a hamburger.
Another part of the routine concerns housekeeping. We don't like anyone coming into our room during our stay. I usually flag down housekeeping and exchange old towels for new, get more toilet paper and Kleenex and shampoo if necessary. When the trash barrels are full, I leave them outside in the morning. Other than that, we don't want anyone in the room.
What are the odds of executing this simple plan?
Zero, as it turns out.
The egg white omelet comes with hash browns, buttered toast one day; ham and cheese the next. The chicken caesar salad comes with caesar dressing two days in a row. Yes, I call down each time and explain.
And housekeeping? The little woman who takes care of our floor is probably 60 years old and 260 pounds. She keeps knocking on the door to get in and I keep sticking my head out to say, "we're fine; no need to come in." She looks concerned, as if I am being held hostage in the room.
One night, when H was competing, she entered our room and made the beds! She arranged all my toiletries on a towel and put my nightgown out on the bed and--get this--pinched in the waist! Am I a creature worthy of her sympathy? Must be.
The point is, even the best laid plans get messed up. I learn to roll with it.
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