I like to eat.
I love to eat.
And I get hungry. A lot.
But I’m pissed off at food currently because it is not playing fair.
When I was a teenager, I could eat whatever the hell I wanted.
Doritos by the bag, Pepsi by the gallon, an entire Reese’s Pieces Sundae at Friendly’s.
All I had to do is just BE.
I had the gift of metabolism and youth on my side.
It’s not a gift, by the way.
So here I sit with my booby prize and look around the room and think, “this is the saddest frickin’ party I have ever been to. Pass the birthday cake”.
BUT IT’S ALL GOOD BECAUSE IT’S ONLY FOUR POINTS, Y’ALL.
What. Has. Become. Of. Me.
Of this year.
Then I reasoned that I would just wear yoga pants, leggings, or knit dresses for the rest of my life and even had a low moment in where I purchased a pair of maternity denim Capri’s.
I NEED YOU TO TALK TO FOOD FOR ME AND MAKE IT LIKE ME AGAIN.
I quietly started Weight Watchers a few months ago and in the beginning, I was all gung-ho and counting points and being really good.
I lost eight pounds in the beginning and got excited.
Maybe not excited, but happy that I was still able to lose weight.
It is now 2017 and I can’t stop eating.
I am my own worst enemy because I really love things like chocolate, pizza, anything with cheese, bacon, potatoes and ground beef in it or around it.
But not mixed all together though because eww.
Eh, I’d probably eat that too.
Ooh! You know what tastes good together? Peanut butter M & M’s and coffee.
SOMEBODY STOP ME.
I even reasoned with myself last week that life is short and if my last day on Earth involved eating a Smart Ones Mostaccioli and no wine within a 48 hour period, it would not be a life worth living.
My best friend right now is my stretch yoga capris.
But after I inhale five slices of pizza first.