So I Ate Half of Houston

In honor of selling my first novel, I suspended my diet for the weekend.

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Saturday night, we put the kids to bed. And then once we were sure they were sound asleep, we ordered pizza. (Rowan is allergic, like me). It was the first pizza I had in over a year, and it was so good that it almost brought a tear to my eye.

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Then the next day I took Sheridan out to eat in Old Town Spring and I had a chopped BBQ Sandwich. I chewed slowly, relishing each thick and luscious bite of the tangy sweet piece of heaven. It was like being a kid all over again.

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Finally, I went to Denny's with Cherri Galbiati and ordered a big, greasy, double meat-double cheese hamburger with a side of fries. I heroically worked my way through that towering spectacle of beefy extravagence. . . savoring each dripping mouthful of meaty goodness. Then a tall hot fudge sundae put the perfect sweet exclamation point to an already delightful meal.

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It was good.

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But now the feast is over, and the real world intrudes. Now I go back on my diet, abstaining from the sinful indulgence of high carb temptations. Now the harsh penitence of a gluten free regimen reasserts itself, and the extravagant folly of the weekend must be paid for.

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Ah well, it was fun while it lasted. I need to get published more often.

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I guess I better write another novel.