Oh hello there, I want to die.
April 29, 2008
Filed under: Personal.
I did the stupidest thing this morning. I walked into my parent’s bathroom… and stepped on the scale. I can’t put into words how I felt as the little wheel climbed up the Fatty Chart, or how much I wanted to die when it finally stopped. Horrified, I took a few steps back. At first I thought the scale had made a mistake, but I knew better. Then, in an act of bitterness and frustration, I raised my fists and cursed the gods of Delicious Food.
Why must food taste so good? Why must I eat it more than once?! Why must I be punished for having that third helping of cake?! I JUST DON’T GET IT, IT WAS RIGHT THERE READILY AVAILABLE, WHY ALL THE HATE?!?!
It was, without a doubt, the worst idea I’ve had in days. I’m more determined to lose the chub, eat healthier, and maybe even work out than I’ve ever been. So as of this moment, I’m hiring some Losing the Chub Workout Buddies, and I’d love it if some of you would join me. Let me know?
Picky Eaters Can Die (Ex: Me)
April 26, 2008
Filed under: Personal.
One of my favorite past times is eating out. I love going to a restaurant, being seated, having a waiter bring me a drink, and relaxing with friends as we chat and look over our menus. And that’s where the problem begins for me. Because, usually, I take a really long time deciding what to eat. I’m such a picky eater it’s almost pathetic. Even if I’ve eaten at the restaurant about 84 times in the past, I always look through the menu front to back at least once. And then I’ll finally decide on two meals, and take some more time deciding which would be better. It’s really cute, actually (no, not really).
Today I spent over ten minutes looking over the menu at this restaurant I love to eat at, Applebee’s, and it was ten minutes too many. My family would look over at me with their hungry eyes and quietly urge me to cut the shit, and I don’t blame them. After questioning my meal choice to see if it was what I really wanted, pondering the possible calories in the meal, and making a pros-and-cons list (mentally, of course), I decided on grilled cheese. Grilled cheese. I’m sorry, what?
Next time, I’ll look at the restaurant’s menu online to preserve my sanity, and that of the people I dine with. It’s only fair.
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