Tuesday, March 13, 2012

and i promise this is the last one tonight...

http://whatshouldwecallme.tumblr.com/post/18218889248/when-i-make-a-new-friend-and-then-find-out-that-her

WHY ARE THESE SO APPLICABLE?!?!

http://whatshouldwecallme.tumblr.com/post/18865909473/when-my-friend-asks-if-i-want-to-go-on-a-diet-with-her

saturday - where art thou?

http://whatshouldwecallme.tumblr.com/post/18867815807/when-i-see-my-favorite-food

oh, and THIS

...is literally the story of our lives this week.

http://whatshouldwecallme.tumblr.com/post/18921778900/when-someone-next-to-me-is-eating-something-delicious

Day 2: Is this real life?

#struggling. I savored every bite of breakfast today, and actually ate a little too much, as my enjoyment led to me being late to my first class. But I was desperate. I needed to taste, and taste some more. There was nothing that brought a bigger smile to my face today than my buttery biscuit. Then I ate a chocolate croissant, and a side of orange chicken at panda throughout the day. Each bite was a reminder that this was the only delicious food I would get to eat today.

It is now 6:30 pm, and I have nothing to look forward to until breakfast tomorrow. Although - Benny is making my salad tonight, so hopefully it will be better than that pathetic excuse for a meal from yesterday I made.

ON THE BRIGHT SIDE...
Today I was extremely proud of myself for making it through day 1. If I can be strong, and live bite to bite on breakfast and snacks throughout the day, I may, just may, be able to eat salad for dinner every night, and become a much stronger and healthier person for it. I knew there was some sense to this...
But at the same time, I'm pretty sure that what I was experiencing was dessert. Not dinner. So I'll consider that a #win and a happy tummy for now. 

Monday, March 12, 2012

After soccer practice I feel so weak that I barely make it up the stairs to my hovel of a bedroom. But I have returned from a successful day in the salad eater's world.
Just as my satisfaction sinks in, the animalistic side of me leaps to my bookcase and demolishes what I didn't eat for dinner. Chips, Fruit snacks and Thin Mints dipped in Marshmallow Fluff. I have failed today's mission, as if someone says to me "pack your bags, soldier."

As I sit doing homework before soccer practice, I find something in my teeth. What is it. A small part of me hopes for a piece of steak from last night's dinner. After ten minutes of fiddling, a bit of drool, and a lot of aggressive looks from my neighbors in the library, I get it out. I look at the artifact with a curiosity that quickly turns to disgust. Lettuce. You haunt me. 

"I'll just have the arugula"

The answer I had to give when asked whether I would like a braised short rib slider or a pulled pork slider, both topped with goat cheese, arugula, a little EVOO and rock salt. As I watched a small bead of juice roll down Jessica's face, I swear I could feel it on mine. I reached up to prove my imagination wrong only to brush away a very real drip, a tear.
In this way my life has been reduced to almost nothing, but air and water and some structural factors. Quite similar to the qualities of a bland, boring piece of lettuce. Lettuce. How I despise you so.