These past couple of days have been weird. Two days ago a regular customer of mine came in and she noticed weight loss (cause I started wearing my smaller shorts to work). She asked what I’m doing and I fed her the lie that has started rolling effortlessly out of my mouth (like so many other things): “Diet and exercise. I eat a lot of white meat chicken, egg whites, and veggies. I’m so bored of my diet food. I’m hungry all the time!” and she offered to cook me something. The next day she actually did, (trigger warning, food description imminent) she showed up with this amazing looking salad with beans and chicken and peppers, onions, and avocado. Some sort of taco sauce infused dressing and sour cream. (Sorry sorry sorry if this is triggery). I wound up bringing it home that night and eating it while I helped my roommate pick out an outfit for a thing he had to attend the next day. I only ate like half, but definitely all the good stuff off the top. I donno. I don’t feel too bad about that salad, especially because it was a gift and very thoughtful and tasty.
But yesterday at work (starbucks) I was training our new guy. And that involves mandatory coffee tasting with pastry pairing. Coffee, oatmeal cookie, double chocolate brownie (sure it was 1/4th a brownie and like 1/8th a cookie, but still NO FUGGIN PASTRIES DAG NABBIT). And this was after I’d allowed myself to eat cheese, fruit, egg white, and raisin bread for lunch, intending that to be my only fuel for the day. UGH. And after all that, my roommate texts me saying he got me a philly cheese steak from this place by our apartment and I was eating it, and he wasn’t asking. Mostly I think he was trying to not make me feel bad about him spending money on food for me, but it was a little worrisome because I never eat at home anymore. Hope he’s not noticing. He’s got enough problems of his own without having to worry about my health. So yea. I came home and ate that sandwich (and it was delicious), rationalizing it by saying I’d laxie up since I replenished my supplies. But I fell asleep before I remembered to pop them. Woke up in a panic realizing that I missed the opportunity. UGH.
But on a brighter note, I have a huuuge crush on this customer who comes in all the time. He asked me to bum a smoke last week and I handed him my pack and lighter, said “Smoke what you want, bring the rest back”. So last night he came in and brought me a fresh pack of ciggies. SO CUTE. I think I’ll dip them in bronze and sleep with them under my pillow. Ugh. So smitten. It’s funny, cause he’s honestly really fat. My arms don’t even meet each other when I hug him. But the bigger he is, the smaller I feel, I really like feeling small. And he’s handsome as fuck, just fat.
For number’s sake, I’m up a pound and a half. Ugh. Tonight is many laxies and today is many waters and coffee. Been chugging coffee and smoking cigarettes in hopes of producing an organic BM, because I sure as fuck have enough digested food inside of me to constitute one. Boo.
I feel like that entire post may have been too long just to explain the guilt I feel about eating less food than a normal human eats in a regular day. But I guess I’ve long since given up any hope of being a “normal human”.
