I’ve been eating a ton of junk food. The more junk food I eat, the more I want junk food. They should call it funk food.

Let me just tell you about the past couple days. Chick-Fil-A. Chinese food. Tropical Smoothie…twice. 

This has been going on for at least three weeks. And I can totally tell. I’m lethargic. And cranky. And all I want to do is stuff my face full of Oreos. It’s stupid. 

In my defense, it’s been a really busy week. But that’s no excuse. I can do better. My priorities are out of whack.

So I tried to fix it with supper tonight. I channeled the mantra my mom preached to me while sitting at the dinner table when I was a little girl.

This. Is. Supper.   

She’d say this because I had a tendency to not eat whatever she cooked for supper, and then I’d ask for cereal or scrambled eggs or little green peas at 10’o clock at night. 

I made a turkey sandwich on a whole wheat English muffin. I topped it with cheese, greens and a bit of ranch dressing. There was also a side of baby carrots.   

And that is supper.

Not fast food. Not junk food. Just a light meal to help get me on the right track.