Summer is done. The kids are back. School’s about to start.
It’s time to buckle down.
My problem? I can’t buckle down because my belt is too tight. I’m officially unbuckled.
I ate and drank my way through the last seven weeks and now I can’t move. You may assume I’m joking but I’m not. Believe you me, I wish I were. My swollen fingers are the only body parts that still move; everything else has been weighed down by the extra pounds I put on during the Summer of Silver.
For the sake of my unpolished sanity, it’s time to buckle down.
I MUST, I MUST, I MUST
increase my bust BUCKLE THE FUCK DOWN!
My problem? I come out of the gate really strong.
Every morning I’m like The Little Engine That Could. I Think I Can. I Think I Can. I Think I Can. And then suddenly dusk sets in and this little engine that thought she could has completely lost steam. The only thing I Think I Can do is raid the fridge, hit the pantry and then incessantly bitch about it!
You want a sneak peek into the inner workings of my unpolished mind when it comes to attempting to buckle down with the dieting? You wanna hear the conversations I have with myself about myself? Get ready, cuz it goes a little something like this:
5:47AM: It’s a new week. It’s a brand new day of a brand new week. Today is DAY ONE! I’m on track. I know I can do this. I Think I Can. I Think I Can. I Think I Can. I KNOW I CAN. I KNOW I CAN. I CAN AND I AM! I’m gonna get my act together and eat clean. It won’t take long. Just stick to the plan. Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels [except for pizza, mozzarella sticks, guacamole, yogurt covered pretzels, Raisinets, Cool Ranch Dorritos and ice cream]. You know what to do. You knowwww what to do so buckle down and JUST DO IT.
9:00AM: I’ve already worked out. I’ve sweated. A lot. Toxins be gone! I feel great. I haven’t fucked up yet. Yay for me! Easy peasy.
10AM: Wow! I’m not even hungry. That egg white must have really done the trick. Yippee. I’m gonna stick to it this time. For real. I can feel it! I’m in this! I Think I Can. I Think I Can. I Think I Can.
11:30AM: Ok, fine. I’m a little hungry but I’m committed. Yes! I’m committed to eating clean and getting healthy again. So what if I can sense the headache coming! Stay ahead of the hunger, Silver! You Can Do It. You Can Do It. Find something to graze on and remember those two magic words: PORTION CONTROL!
12:00PM: I’m so motivated. I’ve already drank a shitload of water and my pee is almost completely clear. This dieting thing works if you stick to it! It’s a piece of cake! Mmmm, cake! NOOOO! No cake! Keep moving in a forward direction. Andddd… I’m back! No to cake! Yes to smart choices! I’m like the L. Ron Hubbard of dieting. Move over Dianetics. I should write my own book and title it, DIETETICS. People would buy that wouldn’t they? I’ll be back in my skinny jeans in no time!
1:15PM: Lunch. Finally. Woooo-hooooo! Bring it. I’m starved. That can’t be the entire meal, can it? Shit. It’s like four bites. Four bites of nothing. I’m already pissed. There is no way this will fill me up. STOP! STAY FOCUSED. Eye on the prize. Channelling L. Ron Hubbard. DIETETICS Chapter One: I can do this. I CAN. I WILL. I AM doing this. I Think I Can. I Think I Can.
I bet it’ll taste better if I sprinkle on some parmesan cheese. Is that allowed? I mean, it’s just a little cheese, and it’s only Day One. My body doesn’t even know we started the diet yet, right? I’m sure it’s fine. I’m adding the cheese. Whatever.
1:38PM: There’s no way that was a real lunch. I don’t know if I can stick to the plan. Ugh. I’m hungry and cranky. That is a bad combination for someone like me. I don’t want to eat to live. I want to live to eat. I love food. L-O-V-E love it. I know; I knowwww that’s what got me into this mess in the first place. Fuck! It’s my own fault. I have problems. I’m an asshole. I dug this
asshole and now I gotta climb my way out. Okay. I’m back. Again. I’m still in this. Keep it in perspective. The heaping glob pinch of cheese won’t even matter. Forget about it. Moving on.
3:07PM: There’s no caloric ramifications of Advil right? My head hurts but I’m also feeling a little nauseous. I bet a handful of crackers or something sorta absorby would really help the nausea. Ohhh, but I’m dieting. I can’t have the crackers. Sigh. Okay, think! THINK! Hmmm. I need a Plan B. Celery! Celery? That’s the plan? That’s the worst plan ever. Celery might be the most boring of all foods on this earth but fine; I’ll eat the celery. At least it has a crunch. I need the crunch. I’m so hungry I could crunch on my hand right now. I should try on my jeans. I wonder if I’ve lost anything yet. I bet I have.
5:00PM: I’m concerned. And discouraged. And quite frankly I’m a little fucking annoyed. The jeans still don’t fit. I don’t understand. I’ve been good all day and they’re still tight. It doesn’t make any sense. Why commit to dieting if the diet isn’t even gonna work. I wish I could love myself being unpolishedly plump. It would make things so much easier. I wish I could just eat something that tasted good and then eat A LOT of it. And then get a stomach bug. Montezuma’s Revenge. Yes! That’s what I’m wishing for. Montezuma’s Revenge would be ideal; problem solved! You know what else I wish? I wish this meal plan wasn’t such a crock of unpolished shit. It’s a total racket; not to mention the biggest waste of money. What I wouldn’t do for a scotch and some appetizers right now…..
7:10PM: “Hello? Oh hey what’s up? Hold on, lemme get off the other line. Hi, I’m back. What’s doing? Oh, you’re going out for drinks? Now? Well yeah, of course I WANT to go but I kinda started a meal plan. I’m so gross. Nothing fits. Getting dressed is torture and I’ve gotta have some semblance of sticktoitiveness this time around if I wanna lose the weight. But here’s the thing… I’ve been good all day and I thought it was working but it’s not. It’s not working; and I’m furious! I haven’t had bread in like forever and I see no change. NONE. So, where you going? Ohhhh, I like it there. Are you staying for dinner, or just drinks? No. No. No, I knowwww you’re right. You’re so right. I mean, one drink isn’t gonna make or break the whole diet. I know. I knowwww. Life IS short. You’re not wrong. Yes, I should come. I should. I THINK I CAN. I THINK I CAN. I’m coming!”
10:00PM: Seriously? Fuck you! Don’t start. Don’t even. Don’t give me shit. I already hate myself enough right now so you can save your breath on the lecture. I wanted the fried calamari so I ordered the damn fried calamari. So what? Sue me. The bread was just sitting there. It was focaccia. What was I supposed to do? Moderation? Screw you, moderation! You can take your moderation and shove it up your celery eating ass. I don’t know anyone who’s truly happy eating celery anyway. Do you? And the red velvet cake? Well, if I already fucked up eating the calamari and the focaccia why wouldn’t I go all in and have the dessert too? I mean, tomorrow is a new day. It’s a fresh start. It will be the right time to get serious. Tomorrow is definitely gonna be the day. Tomorrow I will buckle down!
JUST TO LET YOU KNOW…. Today is now yesterday’s tomorrow; which means I’m back on board. I’m buckling down. I’m committed. It’s a brand new day of a brand new week. It’s DAY ONE. Again!
I Think I Can. I Think I Can. I Think I Can………… And I Think You Can Too!
7 responses to “The Unpolished Engine That Could… I Think I Can. I Think I Can. I Think I Can.”
Riotous blog Silver& I Feel your pain.! I myself am Bulimic,but I just forget to purge.!
Looooooved this! Story of my fucking life! We can do this! Can’t we? Lol
@Lori…. We Can Do It. We Can Do It. We Can. We Can…. Unless Of Course, You Wanna Meet Me For Drinks & Lunch?
I hope u can…..I hope u can…..I hope………
WAIT! You can do it!!!
LOL! I think most of us can relate to your story. So true:-)
Ok, so it took me a day to read this because I’m a loser. Hysterical. Loved it. Live it every damn day. Pathetic how we HAVE to ALWAYS struggle with this nonsense.