Eat Ceasar!

Craving Ceasar dressing like I'm preggo. I AM NOT (just to be clear after the rampant rumor that I was engaged last week started and fueled entirely by Facebook). Anyhoo, I work 8-9 AM this quarter in the Piasa Pub. I show up all sweaty from my work-out with Muff, wash my hands, blow my nose, and get moving on Ceasar Salad Wraps.

This is my daily task. By the end of the shift sometimes I have done a few dishes or made an omlette or two, but the bulk of the hour is spent prepping the wraps. I love making them. Instant gratification of a job well done:

Lay out the pita. Drizzle dressing. Place grilled chicken. Drop parmesian. Sprinkle lettuce. And that's a wrap! Slice in half, wedge in container, toss in a dressing cup, and garnish with two peppers. Bada Bing.

Here's the problem, after only a week and a half of this, I can't stop craving those wraps. I don't even eat chicken, and I crave a chicken wrap for every meal. Instead I focus on the dressing. The thick homemade Ceasar dressing...*insert Homer Simpson drool here* I seriously can't stop thinking about it. You'd think it would work backwards...you handle something every day...you don't want it. I, however, am hypnotized.

PS No photos until I get a new computer. Mine is certifiabley busted forever and ever amen. Eff.