This morning I met some friends for brunch at Cracker Barrel. I wasn't super-thrilled by the location, since most nutritional information isn't available for CB, but I decided that I was going to be social more than I was going for the food, and that it would be a good test for me.
I looked up the menu beforehand and made a plan. When the server came, I was ready with my order - the "Two Eggs n' Biscuits" platter, substitute Egg Beaters, substitute dry wheat toast, side of bacon, with low-sugar jam.
After ordering, I cracked up, realizing that I am now just as high maintenance as Meg Ryan's character in "When Harry Met Sally." And, for the pretty much the first time in my life,
I don't care if I'm being high maintenance, or if my dining companions look at me strangely (for the record, these friends all know I'm counting calories and didn't even bat an eye with my order).
My ordering might cause a little more trouble for the waiter or the kitchen, but doggone it, I'm going to order the healthiest, best food for ME. In the end, I am in control of what I put in my body, which means it's my responsibility to do the best I can in any given situation.
So, I'm going to be the pain-in-the-neck woman at restaurants from now on. And I'm OK with that!