Yeah, you read that right. When I fall off the wagon, I fall hard and on the way down I eat nitrate-filled meats and over-frosted cake. Damn you, co-worker, for getting pregnant and having a baby shower will all sorts of delicious, processed food. If there is any good to be taken from this situation, my system was "detoxified" enough after nine days of clean eating for my binge-o-rama to have quite an effect. The afternoon was spent slumped over, moaning and hoping no one came into my office. Of course, I can't precisely pinpoint which food caused this because there were so many. (Did I not mention the punch, sour cream dip or cream cheese mints? Oops.) The sad thing was, I didn't even care. Here's why. On Monday morning, after seven days of eating like a freaking rabbit, I stepped on the scale. This was going to be fantastic. Every night I'd gone to bed with my stomach feeling like it was eating itself, but the pay-off was going to be worth it. As the nu...