Posts Tagged ‘diet’

    DIE(t)ing: Day 3

    Friday, March 2nd, 2007

    I’m only checking in to assure you all that I am still alive, even after the reality of an extended diet made me go numb yesterday. I swear I lost all feeling in my face when my friend agreed to my half-hearted deal. 

    When I got home last night, I was sprawled out on the bed, depressed and pleading with Ben to allow me to have some Neapolitan ice cream. He instantly shook his head no. So I continued to plead. I got to be such a pain-in-the-ass, I’m sure, that he genuinely offered to get me some ice cream … perhaps he thought I was experiencing some serious physical anguish. And instead of thanking him, I yelled, “NO! What kind of boyfriend are you?! Do you want me fail?!!” And then I buried my head in a pillow, mortified that I just experienced the onset of SFCBS (Sugar-Free Crazy Bitch Syndrome). They say love conquers all, and I hope it does.

    This morning, as I was whipping up a sloppy PB&J for breakfast, I paused to wonder whether I was violating my diet. Does a peanut butter and jelly sandwich come under the category of “sweet deliciousness?” I was worried. So I ate the damn thing before I gave myself any more time to justify why I shouldn’t. Tell me I didn’t break any rules.

    DIE(t)ing: Day 2.5 — I hate my job

    Thursday, March 1st, 2007

    Turns out that I just extended my no-good-stuff diet for another week. A total of 14 effin days — and I’m not even done with Day 2.

    My fellow workerbee and January 16th baby, Gabe, aka G-L-A-M-O-R-O-U-S, was telling me a story about how he tried to give up Jack In The Box recently, and his prohibition period lasted only five days. So I somehow contracted diarrhea of the mouth and told him that I’d prolong my current diet an extra week if he laid off the JITB for a while. Unfortunately, he called my bluff.

    I want to die. I better be dropping pounds over all this panicking.

    DIE(t)ing: Day 2

    Thursday, March 1st, 2007
    I’m going to assume that all of you reading this are giving me hearty pats on the back and congratulating me for surviving my first day without sweets. Yes, I did it. I dodged gumdrop bullets, rolled over chocolate quicksand and evaded the giant marshmallow man rushing toward me and screaming, “EAT ME! EAT ME!” (I detest marshmallows.)

    Yes, today I avoided the landmines of all thing yummy, especially at work, by far the biggest hurdle to my goal. Shame on me for choosing to be a copy editor AND expecting to stay svelte. I should’ve been a dietician, or a personal trainer, or even a stripper. Nothing whips one into shape faster than the thought of oneself’s ass hanging out of a thong in ways it never should.

    The DIE in dieting

    Wednesday, February 28th, 2007


    All my life, despite occasional displeasure over my body, I have never gone on a diet. I didn’t find it worthwhile to deprive myself of all things delicious just so my mother, who can easily find a nit to pick when it comes to my size, will applaud my loss of a few pounds. If I wanted ice cream, I’d eat it. If I began to salivate over cannoli, then I’d have the freakin’ cannoli. This was all while my metabolism was in place, however.

    That’s not so much the case anymore. I’m tempted to detail the pathetic workings of my digestive tract but I will spare you and your gag reflex. I will admit that I’ve gained 17 pounds since the fall of 2004. My ferocious backfat is back, and I’m looking mighty sloppy.

    So, ladies and gentlehumans, behold the unthinkable: Minal is going on a diet. The start date is today, and my goal is rather unimpressive: Refrain from consumption of cookies, cake, ice cream, candy, pastries, chocolate or anything else scrumptiously sweet and dessert-ish for a week. An entire week. This is serious.

    I’m submitting myself to this torture because I think I’ve developed a dependency on sugar. And I’d like to see just how big of a crazed bitch I become with a low dose of sugar in my system. I’ve already warned my co-worker of the challenge; told her to not take it personally if I snap or bite her hand off while losing it over a bite-sized Snickers.

    The day so far has been easy; withdrawals aren’t near their apex yet. I did, however, catch myself going for a lollipop near the copydesk … it was almost reflexive.

    This is going to be fun. I hope I don’t die of low blood sugar levels.

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