God bless Pizza Hut

So apparently the sensible thoughts that ever so occasionally pop into my head (and it really is occasional) rarely match up with what comes out of my mouth.

Take Wednesday evening, for instance. I'd popped round to see my lovely mates Lucy and Ady, and their baby Oly, but very sensibly made myself a quick tea of veggie burger and salad before I went. This was because the rare sensible thought running through my head at that point was that after feeling refreshed by my holiday I really ought to try to keep the health kick going. Body is a temple and all that.

Then Ady suggested getting a pizza from the icky takeaway place round the corner, a place that really is only usually acceptable fayre on the way home from a trip to the pub.

So the sensible thought that ran through my head was 'come on now Jade, you've already had your tea and that pizza won't even be a nice one, it'll be stodgy and gross and made you feel like you've swallowed a brick'.

And what came out of my mouth was: "Oooooooh yes please Ady, make mine a margarita, and does anyone fancy sharing some garlic bread?"

Predictably, the pizza turned out to be stodgy and gross, and made me feel like I'd swallowed a brick for the rest of the night. Which does tend to happen if you eat two dinners instead of one.

Last night was another example. I was on a night out in Derby with Anna, and in the early hours of the morning I headed off the dance floor to the bar to get a glass of water, because a rare sensible thought had popped into my head telling me that after executing a spectacular botty wiggle to Beyonce's Crazy Right Now (Oh come on, it is a classic) it might be a good idea to sober up a bit.

Nom nom

Unfortunately, once at the bar, what came out of my mouth was: "Can I have two Tequila slammers please? And a couple of Jack Daniels with ice."

Balls.

So I'm now sat in work on a late shift, putting the finishing touches to tomorrow's paper and feeling ever-so-slightly delicate.

And when my workmates suggested calling the Pizza Hut for our usual Sunday evening takeaway, for once my thoughts and actions matched up....

'Mmmmmmmm fatty stodge....' said my hungover brain.

"Mmmmmmmmm fatty stodge.... count me in!" came out of my mouth.

God bless Pizza Hut. And the tenuous link to the supermarkets is this is what I've been eating and drinking for the past few days.... a nice/naughty mixture of pizzas (of varying quality!), salad, smoothies, Tequila and JD - none of them from Tesco.