All things must change. I once told Sporty, in one of my moments of poetic clarity (or I remember reading it somewhere) that we're always changing, even to the degree that right now we are aren't the same person we were when we woke up this morning. Life isn't a series of abrupt changes, although they do happen, they are in reality a shifting over time. Well, I've shifted. And damn if now the gear ain't stuck.
This is the last time I'm going to call it my diet, because it stopped being a diet a while ago and became just how I eat now. I am entirely resentful of the situation, because now although I crave french fries, I hate how they make me feel after I've eaten them. Although a juicy hamburger is what I want, the weight of it in my gut and the fact that I have to go to sleep after eating it makes me angry. Pizza is a sleep aid. All my favorites I can't eat anymore, because I don't like the way I feel after I eat them.
I'm not quite up to "Nothing tastes as good as being thin feels", probably because I'm not thin. I'm thinner than I was, but not thin. But this is getting ridiculous. I really want some baby back ribs - the falling of the bone, licking the sauce off your fingers, have to change your shirt kind of baby back ribs that normally knock you out. But I'm afraid that one meal would put me in a food coma. I want to go to Ray's on the River's Sunday Buffet (that I have no one I really want to go with is beside the point) but I know that means anything else on Sunday is over, not gonna happen, and I got stuff to do.
They tricked me!
Okay, they did kinda say this at the beginning, not a diet really more a lifestyle change yadda yadda yadda, but who was actually listening. And I figured if the damned thing did work, I could just go back to eating and turn it off and on as I pleased. This eat and sleep joint is so not cool.
NOT cool.
But my slim shirts still fit. So there's that.
Maybe I'll just lose some more damn weight.
Barkeep. Something diet. No wait, I'm not crazy. Water.
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