I’ve been sick. Really really sick. My nose is running like a brook and I’m sneezing 3-4 times an hour. My eyes are watery and itchy and sensitive and I’m miserable. I’ve gone through two boxes of Puffs Plus with Aloe. And I have company.
I should fix dinner for them.
I feel like a jerk because I don’t cook anymore. Mikelle brought her friend, Logan, and his brother, Caleb, and they have been sitting on the couch watching football and playing computer games all day but they haven’t eaten. I just don’t want to be around food. I am incapable of not gaining 5 pounds when I’m in the kitchen. And since I just barely got to 148 I don’t want to jeopardize that. They’re upstairs and I can hear them talking about it right now.
Mikelle: “Sorry, mother doesn’t cook.”
Logan: “Even when she has company?”
Caleb: “What a jerk!”
Ok, they didn’t really say that. It was just a silly little day-dream I had but I’m pretty sure they would/could/should have said it if they hadn’t known I was listening.
That’s the hard part about trying to lose weight and being on a diet. You have to deal with food every single day. If you’re addicted to alcohol or tobacco or drugs or porn, you can [with a whole lot of help] remove yourself from the situation and change your environment and maybe have a fighting chance. But food is a part of every single day, usually at least 3-5 times a day, 24/7/365. It’s part of every celebration, every party, every success, every sport, every holiday.
Oh my heck! It’s part of every funeral.
So, for now, I just have to stay away from the kitchen. Someday, I might be able to fix a meal for everyone but in the meantime, b.y.o.f.