About two hours ago I realised I had forgotten to even think about what I'd eat tonight, let alone prepare something. I was hoping I'd be touched with some magical wand of inspiration but alas, no such thing.
So 45 minutes ago I told myself to quit it and go to the kitchen, no coming back without food, even if it's just a sandwich.
I was expecting to return to the living room with some sort of creamy cabbage dish, or fried eggs on a slice of low carb bread, or maybe something with halloumi and tomatoes, or even just a cheese sandwich.
Instead I still don't have a proper meal, but I do have a large new batch of marmitey walnuts now.
Trying to decide if this is an utter failure or a glorious win!
I think I'll call a private surprise pyjama party and retire to my bed early with a book, lots of dogs(*), two cats, a generous amount of marmitey walnuts, a bowl of yoghurt, some pork scratchings and aioli, and the last of the chocolaty nut squares.
*After all, I already had two sleepover dogs for a week from a friend who's on holiday, and today my neighbour added his dog as well, as he's unexpectedly away for the weekend.
And I've never heard of needing vitamins at a party, so I think I'm all good!