This is going to be a problem:
This is the taco truck in Beloit. It parks about 4 blocks from my office.
And ... it's FREAKING DELICIOUS!
Well, the truck isn't delicious. I didn't lick the truck. But the food the truck turns out is simply amazing.
My plan was to meet Jim at the truck, walking the four or so blocks from my office to get there. Certainly that would at least partially work off the not-exactly-clean-eating lunch I was about to ingest.
The four blocks didn't come close to redeeming that enormous, spectacular Burrito Al Pastor.
Roasted pork, cabbage, cilantro, onion, beans, rice ... oh good gravy. Jim met me there and chose the steak version. Both rocked.
(And, HRGirl, you would have loved the hilarious and inappropriate way one has to eat an enormous burrito while sitting on the tailgate of an old pickup in the parking lot of an Auto Zone on a beautifully, sunny day with the man of your dreams ... who is also manhandling a burrito.)
Jim drove me back to work. I should have walked. Well, I should have sprinted.
Twice.
I'm going to have to limit my access. You know, plan my indulgery. I think the next time I allow myself to dive in will be the day I run the 8 miles to work. And the time after that will be the day I run in to work and plan to run back home.
Addiction is hard.
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