Yesterday, I made a "Better Than Sex" cake. I don't know that it's better than sex, but it's pretty damn good. You know the kind - you bake a german chocolate cake and drizzle sweetened condensed milk and caramel sauce over it and then top it with whipped cream and toffee pieces? Yeah. That kind.
Well I baked it for my husband to take to his lodge meeting and I'm cursing those men because they didn't finish the damn thing. It's in the refrigerator now and it sorta screams at me every time I open the refrigerator door. "EAT ME!" And man do I want to. But I'm not going to. At least right now.
I've been drinking water all day, and lots of it. Any time I lose any amount of weight, I have been drinking a lot of water. And I worked out this morning (see previous "F You Bob Harper" post). So I don't want to ruin it. Plus we're going to the fair tonight. Chances are at least a little bit of a funnel cake will find it's way to my belly. So I'm trying to prepare for that.
Better than sex? No f-ing way.