Oh, ho, ho, let’s not get cocky now.
I was anticipating a hellish day. And it was hard, with the usual Monday onslaught of paperwork and tiny tasks that build into enormous ones. But my fears weren’t a 10th of what I imagined they might be. I feel pretty relieved and sort of powerful like I have a fresh Tuesday start. There’s still so much to do. And there’s no giant pizza ice cream zone out session ahead of me to celebrate my own ineptitude not smacking my in the face as hard as I might have expected and no sadsack sorry burrito to quell the stress and disillusion I feel generally about my job. There’s just moving forward. Salad and sausage and a wee little egg.
I’m trying to watch myself so I don’t cave in small ways. I had a taco salad at lunch and made the best of it, not sobbing into my napkin about the absent #11, my usual. I didn’t feel hungry. But these tricksy little protein bars. They’re tricksy because one’s good and fine and magical and fills me up and gives me added protein since my appetite’s small and yet, boy, suddenly having two a day seems perfectly logical. Little cravings for a third are creeping in. Telling me it’s the last one, I can’t just finish the box. I’m telling myself to be quiet. It’s a week and a day. We don’t need to be carving out little exceptions to rules already just so that we can have a few more faux-sweets. So imperfection, yes, I know it well. It’s interesting to me how I rationalize my cravings. How I move past thought into gimme, gimme, gimme.
I’ve made the mandate that after the final bar is gone – not tonight, damnit, either – I’m not buying any more until I’ve lost more weight/regained my sanity. It may be a long wait for said bars. Oh well. I would really not like to look back and say that I was held back, that I never reached my goal by my overwhelming passion for protein/meal replacement bars.
It’s a curious thing. Victory eating. Reward eating. Yay good times and I deserve it eating. It’s so undermining and it essentially fucks up your good intentions. That was such a strong impulse for me today. I was so in a fit of relief and happiness and I wanted to eat bad things to…what, I don’t know, numb the excitement? Add to it? As a kid, I remember how going out was like this “big girl” activity. You dress up, you see other people, they give you delicious food, no one has to cook, it’s a new environment, and we do it because something happened that was positive. Food was always a part of big events and then, wanting that big event, something happening feeling, food just found its place as my opiate of choice.
I really don’t want that to be how it is. So, with that clarity of feeling, I’m changing it. The change is the reward and connecting with people, aesthetics, writing, movement, success, progress, peace and calm are all ways to honor big moments versus bloatedly encasing my feelings with a rind of starch and salt.
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