A lesson - When Fasting, do not go out with friends. You will end up eating.

Why do I never learn??

Yesterday was "supposed" to be a fasting day. Yet I stupidly agreed to go to the pub with work friends. I deliberately turned up an hour later than everyone else, thinking that if they were going to order food (of course they would order food) that they would be finished by the time I arrived.

Apparently not! Apparently they wanted to wait for me. What the fuck?
So I can't even fob them off by saying I had a huge lunch because i had been at work with them and they were fully aware that I hadn't had any lunch at all.
I'm panicking in my head and trying not to look flustered and my closest friend is studying me carefully for my reaction because he knows about my "past" eating problems and he is getting suspicious recently.

And the best thing to do to get them all of my backs is to eat something. Damn. I'm scanning the menu trying to pick the lowest fat option..they don't have the calorie listings, I thought we were in 2010?...The only salad option they have is cheese and walnut or chicken and bacon. Damn and shit - Hardly freeking low fat!!

I decide to go with chicken and bacon, figuring I can just eat some Chicken and the salad and leave the bacon to the side.
The salad arrives - it's covered in some sort of oil dressing. "What is this?" "Avocado dressing" replies the waiter. Oh man. It's drenched in it. The bacon bits...are minuscule. I can't pick them out, that would look like crazy behaviour and my friends would definitely pick up on it. They know me well enough to know I like bacon. Suspicious friend is still watching me over his own plate of burger and chips.
Bullshit. I resign myself to the fact that I have to eat this shitty meal even though it's going to mess up the whole days work. I eat half, hoping that will counteract some of the calories even though I know that really it won't and it's still crap.

I spend the rest of the night in a fowl mood, wishing I could get crazy drunk to make me feel better but refusing because I can't possibly have any more calories after that salad. I go home feeling resigned and guilty, wishing I never went out in the first place and thinking..
"Why the fuck can't people just let me get on with it?"