WHY is my Mental Illness Number in a symbiotic relationship with the number on my scales? I swear those two are like Ducky and Molly Ringwald in Pretty in Pink. When Molly was up, Ducky shot sky high, and when Molly was down, oh the manifold sorrows of Ducky.
DIGRESSION: What was WRONG with her ANYWAY? Why on earth would she go running after the lipless and angst-filled drooping rich snot-bucket who was SOMETIMES MEAN TO HER when she could have had DUCKY. Ducky who was CUTE and ADORED HER. Okay, sure, there’s a little bit of geek factor going on there. But she should have gotten herself a GEEK IS CHIC T-shirt and gone with it. Ducky was THE GUY.
Someday when she is 35 and in therapy and in the middle of the UGIEST divorce in history, Molly will get on the internet and hit classmates trying to FIND Ducky, and you know what? By then some other girl will have gratefully and with mad adorative passion SNAPPED HIM UP and Molly? HONEY? Serves you right. And trust me, Ducky will not drop his family and fall back into your arms when you DO track him down. Ducky will remember you fondly, and feel sad that you are unhappy, and he’ll Take a Moment with you, maybe squeeze your arm, but then he’ll go home and be HAPPY THERE. Because he is nice that way, but more than that, Ducky is MAD for his wife and kids. DUCKY has Character! And Passion! And Virtue! And PS --- he has LIPS.
At any rate, I still have two pounds I gained from vacation, and I seem to have added another two just because the vacation ones seemed LONELY. As a result my mental illness number is upUpUP. I HEART eating, so my normal course of action would be to add more ankle weights and raise my aerobic step another couple of inches. But I just DID that to try and lose the original vacation pounds. I can’t raise my step any higher without putting my head into the path of the ceiling fan which will shear away the top of my skull and mercifully lobotomize me so I can not feel the pain as my heart bursts from shlepping all the freakin' ankle weights I'd have to add.
So. There is nothing for it but to combine the exercise with….ugh…a diet. BOO! I hate diets. I try to eat South Beachily and am all about good fats and lean protein and whole grains. I avoid white flour and sugar, unless it's in, like a really good COOKIE. So I could just get a little stricter with that and EAT sensibly. I could, for example, spend a day NOT hunting down and killing whole herds of chocolate droozled Bunndt cakes and dragging them back to my lair to devour them, snarling crumbily at any cake-hungry children who approach me asking me to please role-model SHARING.
BUT WHAT FUN IS THAT?
I think INSTEAD that I am going to make my OWN diet up. It will be very faddy and dreadful. I will call it the ANTI-OXIDANT DIET and I will only eat things that I suspect have a lot of anti-oxidants in them. I’m not really sure what an anti-oxidant is, but it is very good for you. Also Omega three somethings are very good. I may eat those too. I will base my knowledge on whether or not I have seen people look at the food in question, nod sagely and say “It has a lot of anti-oxidents.” Or “That is chock full of omega three somethings.”
So far using this method I can eat: Kale, Dark Chocolate, Fish Oil, Walnuts and Red Wine.
Perfect.Posted by joshilyn at August 24, 2004 11:55 AM