This.  This is what I’m combating.  You know what the worst part is?  I don’t even have it as bad as some people.  My wife works in a dietary hell.  People around her are constantly eating candy, getting greasy burgers or pizza for lunch, or even bringing in frozen custard!  This, however is not about her.  This is about my attempt to stick to my new plan.  I hate to call it a diet because of the connotations.  This is going to be the new way that I eat. Soon, it will become a habit and eating healthy will be normal instead of the exception.  I’ve decided to focus on eating (since I do it all the time anyway) instead of exercise (which I can hardly seem to get myself to do at all).  Pretty clever when I put it like that, huh?  I will never be able to burn as many calories exercising as I’m capable of consuming so I’m renewing my focus on the kitchen.

Specifically I’m focused on portion size.  See, I already like to eat vegetables and fruit.  I don’t mind healthier cuts of meat and I think I’m finally becoming comfortable with cooking and eating fish.  Sushi really helped with that (this is fish?!).  I’m not saying that I don’t eat donuts, ice cream, cookies, etc. on occasion or even a giant greasy cheeseburger but that’s not a daily occurrence for me.  Well…okay, so maybe it was nearly daily, not the burger, but something.  I don’t think that was my main pitfall though.  I think it’s that when I eat something as innocuous as a salad I eat a massive fucking salad.  Even with a reasonable dose of dressing that is a ton of calories…from a salad!!!  So I’ve adopted a meal plan with a lot of options but each meal is pretty specific about the portion sizes.  So guess what ISN’T part of the meal plan.

That WAS however sitting in the break room.  It was sitting in the break room for hours like some kind of untouchable holy grail of donut-dom.  Every time I went in there for a coffee or a water it was staring at me, taunting me.  I grabbed a yogurt out of the fridge…I stared at the donut, I studied it…I began to visualize myself in front of an altar, carrying a bag of sand and wearing a whip and fedora.  I decided to finish my yogurt instead of dodging a volley of poisonous darts and a boulder.

Just as a I walked out of the break room I could swear I saw a single tear roll down that peep’s cheek.