“There’s something in me that I can’t be too good for too long. Whether it’s drinking or eating or flossing my teeth or keeping my public politics neutral (Alternative Truth?). What is it? A parasite? A viral infection? Not enough karma credits built up?”
“None of that. You CAN be good. Your goal is to drop twenty pounds, right?”
“Yes, but it’s turning into a fat fantasy. Did you know that diet stands for: did I eat that????????? I’ve just rediscovered bread. The cure for all ills. Not chocolate. Bread. Bread is my soulmate.”
“But with 1,243 calories per day, you could lose two pounds per week, twenty pounds in two and one-half months.”
“That’s only one whopper for the whole day! I can’t live like that! Starvation, deprivation. Damnation. Put me on probation.”
“Ok, how about this? Be good 80% of the time (Monday through Saturday noon) and you get to be bad for the rest of the weekend. But ya gotta cut the carbs. You can eat sweet potatoes. And Japanese purple potatoes.”
“Well, there goes Happy hour Fat Fridays. And Saturated Saturdays. But at least I’ll still have Sin Sundays. What are those Japanese purple things? Why are they good but a good ole Idaho russet isn’t? You are talking to someone who has a yuuuuuuuge kitchen cabinet above her oven named Snack Canyon. Care must be taken when entering the canyon as you might have a “rock” slide upon you: popcorn, cookies, crackers, jelly beans, nuts, crap candy leftovers from Christmas gifts or Halloween rejects. This barrage of fat fun can be especially dangerous as the only way to really explore the canyon is to perch on a high bar stool. Like being on a cliff. Danger, danger! Then there are snaccidents: eating an entire box of cookies or bag of chips by mistake.
I suppose you want exercise too?”
“Yep. Three hours minimum per week. Do you want to be sore or sorry tomorrow? That’s the question.”
“Does raising a wine glass to my face count as a curl…you know…for upper body strength? I like exercise that is halfway between a lunge and a crunch. Lunch. Some days I care about my weight. Don’t want a butt the size of a double-wide. I’m ready for a fat intervention. Other days, I have no intention. I know someone who quit exercising when she went on a diet. Said it made her too hungry. My television makes me hungry. Should I kill my tv before it kills me? What do you think of that, you gym rat?”
“What a diet diatribe this is. It’s sucking my energy which is already depleted by having to pay attention to so many silly health food suggestions. I have indigestion. And when I get over that, I’m going to eat my entire kitchen. I know, I know…I am what I eat. Therefore, I’m going to eat a skinny person.
Let’s not lose our lives in pursuit of thinner thighs.”
I wonder if I listened…