They very definition of self control.

Joey's been craving a burger lately. He's rather like a woman on a PMS rage when he gets on a kick for something--and it's usually in the form of meat or chocolate. See? PMS, totally. And since "happy husband, happy life" is also a thing, we went to Red Robin last night for dinner.

I've eaten my body weight and then some in soups and salads lately, so I knew what I didn't want off the menu. Be good, Kristi. Be good. Noticing they had a lettuce wrap option instead of a bun, I went for that with the turkey burger patty. To push myself to the absolute limits, I also ordered bottomless....broccoli. Thrilling.

If you've known me for a minute, you know how serious of a situation this is. No bun. No fries. NO CARBOHYDRATES FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THINGS GLUTEN. By its very definition, this is self-control to the nth degree.

I would like to go on the record to say that lettuce wraps were invented by idiots. Lettuce ≠ hamburger bun. Lettuce = salad. Hamburger > salad.

I'm probably going to be grumpy for awhile. You've been warned. But at least I'm funny when I'm grumpy, right?