What's smoss, you might ask?
I don't know.
Just like I don't know why the hell I'm gaining weight right now.
I'm exercising.
I'm eating fresh.
It's a (frustrating) quandry.
Every time I go grocery shopping, I have a complex. And the complex is that while I'm unloading my cart stocked to the nines of fresh fruit and weird healthy shit, that the person behind me, the people next to me, my cashier, the loss prevention dude in the cat walk above me are all thinking: "Hmm..so the fat lady is going on a diet. Interesting."
And then I want to yell: "This isn't a diet! This is actually how I eat, and how I shop every two weeks. I prommmmmmissee!"
Here's photo proof of the groceries I brought home yesterday, minus the veggies I'll buy today at the farmer's market (these will last me about 12-14 days):
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| Bad groceries: chips, cookies, candy |
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| Good groceries: watermelon, tuna, oatmeal, diced tomatoes, pineapple, cantaloupe, oranges, pita pockets, salmon, apples, strawberries, sparkling water, bananas, avacados, skim milk, parmesan cheese, pepperjack cheese, half-n-half, kiwi and chereries. |
But who really gives a rat's ass?
I mean, I'm power-walking twice a day. I eat whole oats with cinnamon and a banana every morning. I drink coffee. I eat fish and veggies. I splurge on chips with my tuna. I don't down alchohol or diet drinks. My M&M intake is nearly non-existant. I'm eating organic and fresh when I can.
What else is there? A liquid diet?
Hell-to-the-no.
At the end of the day, I love food. Yes, sometimes obsessively, but a lot less of that these (healthy) days, and a lot more of whatever thoughts one uses to convince oneself a cheeseburger will not cure all mental and emotional ails.
Sometimes the best you can do is all you can do.
I told a friend of mine: "I will never be a stick."
And he said, "Good. Sticks are brittle."
Brittle is something I could never be accused of being.
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