The latest happened after the ACM Awards show Sunday night in Vegas. We managed to find a restaurant in the MGM with an open table to have dinner with a friend. The next morning, I felt awful. Really awful. My stomach was cramping and my head felt like I couldn't fully wake up. (I know what you're thinking, 'Hey, it's Vegas. That's called a hangover!', but, no, I only drank water.) I was in complete panic mode as I had only three hours until my flight and who wants to get on a plane when your stomach is staging a full-out revolt?
As we talked through what I'd eaten, it came to me. I had eaten a small (white) roll before dinner. (We had been so busy and not had time to eat so I was famished. I totally caved to instant gratification.) Realizing that the flour must have been bleached was the a-ha moment I was looking for. I was so mad at myself for not waiting the extra fifteen minutes for my salad and vegetable ratatouille to avoid this misery.
In the end, I ordered multigrain toast from room service and topped it with half an avocado I'd brought with me. (Yes, I travel across the country with avocados.)
With that, and a vow to not be my own worst enemy again, I headed home a happy camper.
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