Monday, March 2, 2009

Fat Chick vs. Food - Week 9

I cheated. I’m a big fat cheating cheater who cheats.

Okay, so……this week sucked. I suck. I suck huge donkey balls. I let life derail me. I was all, “Life dealt me a shitty hand and therefore I get to eat crap.” I ate shitty food, I didn’t exercise really at all, and I drank too much. More than once.

A few days I was okay with the food. Actually, I was feeling so shitty I didn’t eat much of anything. One day the only thing I ingested the entire day was a cheeseburger and vodka. I’m pretty sure that’s not really very healthy. That might be standard operating procedure if I was some tweaked out little skank getting ready to shoot a music video, but alas, I'm not. I know better.

My career is going to shit and I have let that sad fact get in the way of the weight-loss mission. How stupid is that?? In this current employment climate, I really could have it a lot worse. I’m a government employee who still has a job, good wage, great benefits, a pension, etc. Mine is definitely a first-world problem. It’s not like I need to carry a bucket on my head for five miles three times a day to provide my family with water or anything. I spent yesterday evening bemoaning my problems over a steak dinner and a glass of shiraz for crying out loud. I’m pretty sure people have bigger problems than me.

Yet, I let my life circumstance derail my progress. I have been at this eight weeks now – shouldn’t I have found a rhythm? Why can’t I get this food and exercise thing under control? How do I let myself cave in so often?

I would never, ever, EVER cheat on my husband. Ever. Even when I really want to, I would never actually do it. I know this young guy who is somewhere in his twenties and is so dreamy every time I look at him the song ‘Mrs. Robinson’ starts playing in my head. While he may not be into a chubby thirty-something at first glance, let’s be honest - he’s a guy. If I was so inclined, I could have my way with him. But, I won’t. I took a vow, and that is just not an option anymore. Sometimes I wish I could venture away from the familiar man (that I love), but I know it would do nothing but ruin my life so I won’t.

Why doesn’t the same resolve apply to food? Why is it just not as simple as – ‘I just can’t eat that because it will ruin me.’? Why can I be so faithful in all areas but one? I am not a weak person. Why is this so hard? I’m only screwing myself. This post is depressing.

I just weighed in and somehow still managed to drop two pounds this week. Stress must burn a lot of calories.

I have 47.5 pounds to go.