The Animals Hate Me

I was in Montreal, Quebec for the weekend.  It was a surprise trip for my husband and I had been saving all my money to make it a fun, romantic experience.  I just wanted us to have Christmas of our own because his mom has a stranglehold on the holidays.  Because my nickname is "Ang" we called it Angsmas and will henceforth be having Angsmas every year.

While we were there, I found the biggest problem for me was binge eating.  I was going to allow myself to go way over my calories because I figured there was no holding back, it's ANGSMAS!  So the first night, I cheated my veganism and had a flatbread that had a little bit of goatscheese on it.  I felt guilty, but not terrible.

Then the next day,  I ate poutine aka: the least vegan food on the planet.  It's not even vegetarian because it's slathered in gravy.  But I ate it and loved every delicious mouthful.  I felt so guilty about it later but just kept saying shit like "well,  I can have ONE meal a year.  It's not even meat, it's just a little bit of juice and thickener".  

Then my stomach exploded and I drunkenly lay on my bed crying that the animals hate me.  And I started thinking about the poor cows that made the cheese and got turned into gravy.  Then I felt bad about the goats from the night before.  I am too much of a bleeding heart to ever do anything like that again.  I just can never do it again.

I don't want the animals to hate me.