Ever since last week, I’ve been craving soup like a crazy lady. On Friday night, I (easily) convinced Rob to get Vietnamese for dinner. The beef pho totally hit the spot, but the very next night I was craving soup, again.
When it comes to breakfast, I’m usually a creature of habit. I’ll go in spurts where I eat the same thing for months, then finally decide I’m sick of it and move onto something else.
When I lived in Dallas, I worked for our family’s business—a men’s clothing store and my dad was my boss. One of the biggest perks was that he’d frequently take me out for lunch and never made me pay.
A few weeks ago we got back from a trip to Europe—Lisbon, Porto, and Paris to be specific. The trip was absolutely amazing, but 9 days of drinking copious amounts of wine and real cappuccinos (usually I drink almond milk), and eating Croque Monsieur and steak frites takes it’s toll.